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THE 



HISTORY OF DEMOCEACY: 



OB, 



Political Progress, 



HISTOKICALLY ILLTISTEATED, 



FROM THE EARLIEST TQ THE LATEST PERIODS. 



BY 



NAHUM CAPEN, LL.D., 



AUTHOR OP " THE BEPUBLIC OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ; ITS DUTIES TO ITSELF 
AND ITS RESPONSIBLE RELATIONS TO OTHER COUNTRIES," ETC., ETC. 



WITH PORTRAITS OF DISTINGUISHED MEN. 



' 

Vol. I. 










HARTFORD : 

AMERICAN PUBLISHIKG COMPANY. 

1874. 



^^ 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by 

NAHUM CAPEN, 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



/ / ^ 



^f 



TO 

THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES 

OF ALL PAETIES, 

TO TPIE LOVERS OF TRUTH AND FREEDOM 

IN ALL COUNTRIES, 
THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



History is the science of knowledge. Science is nothing without 
knowledge, but there may be much knowledge without science. It 
is only by the aid of science that knowledge is made practically 
useful. Science not only comprehends the knowledge of things and 
principles, — but the supreme skill of the understanding in discovering 
the natural system of their development. 

The History of Democracy, is a history of principles, — as connected 
with the nature of man and society. All principles centre in God, — 
the eternal source of Truth, "Wisdom, Justice and Love. As the 
infinite attributes of Deity give existence, order and direction to the 
universe of being, so the, faculties of man are the ordained agents of 
the divine will, as made known by Providence, and within the limits 
of humanity. In the sublime truths of Christianity is to be found the 
high standard of human conduct and endeavor. 

From these relations of mind turn to the physical world. Contem- 
plate all external objects, in themselves and in their relations. This 
outward view comprehends all the great interests of the world. It 
embraces thought, labor, inventive genius, and skill, — industry in its 
beneficent rewards and necessities ; commerce, in its enlarging enter- 
prise and influences ; science, with its keen and patient discernments 
of the natural laws ; the arts, in their beautifying refinements ; society, 
and nations, under the conditions of success, or failure, peace, or war ; 
government, with its collective power and authorized agencies; the 
theories of human agency, the unnumbered ways and methods of doing 
the same things, — which are the perpetual sources of inquir^^, discussion, 
experiment and action. The record of this vast activity, of its mean- 

V 



VI PREFACE. 

ing and uses, is history. Every subject in its simple elements has its 
basis in principle, and its record in progress. In all this diversity truth 
demonstrates harmony. 

The events which illustrate political freedom in America, for the 
elucidation of principles, may be divided into three periods, — from the 
first settlements to the separate formation of the Colonies ; from the 
distinct organization of the Colonies to the Revolution and the forma- 
tion of the American Union ; and from the date of the Constitution of 
the United States to the present time. This subdivision has not 
been formally observed in this work, but practically, it will be. 

All events, identified with the growth of a nation are more or less 
important, as they serve to illustrate principles. They may be classi- 
fied according to their origin, nature and tendencies. They are of a 
transient or permanent nature. Some end almost with their beginnino-, 
while others discover elements of perpetual influence. A fact, is the 
record of truth, and can never be obliterated. 

Every period of a nation's growth has its standard in principle. The 
colonists, in America, as subjects, had theirs in Monarchy. As men, 
they found it in Republicanism. "When they found that they could 
not defend their principles, either as colonists or men, they united as 
citizens to form a union that would secure the distinct and extended 
benefits of national existence. The laws of national transition permit 
no break in the illimitable chain of cause and effect. The links that 
belong together will be brought together, though centuries intervene. 
As space gives locality to matter, so time gives opportunity to mind. 
All the events of these succeeding periods are to be attentively observed 
in their nature, studied in their tendencies, and measured in their 
unlimited relations. 

The monarchist and the republican ; the tory and the democrat ; the 
papist and the protestant ; the puritan, and the great family of dissen- 
ters ; the quaker, the pioneer, the adventurer, the fanatic and the theo- 
rist, — all, at one time or another, in some way, have been identified 
with the beginning and the growth of the American Republic. It is 
the purpose of this work to review their varied and combined labors 



PREFACE. vii 

and infiuences, and humbly to gather wisdom from their experience to 
serve as a guide to future endeavor. 

If what the author has written shall tend in any degree to encour- 
age inquiry, to enlarge and strengthen the patriotic resolves of man- 
hood, to quicken and deepen the spirit of duty that dignifies citizen- 
ship, and recognizes the rule of God in the government of nations, he 
will have just occasion to congratulate himself that his labors have not 
been without some reward. 

Mount Ida, Boston, September, 1874. 



CONTENTS 



INTRODUCTORY. 



Principles of Party. What party is. A world without party incapable of progress. 
Arkwright and Fulton. Party a manifold moral power. All great truths opposed. 
Man agent of power, and subject of want. Early trained as a partisan. English, free 
thinkers in politics. Whig and Tory, names familiar to all. Creeds ^nd Cliques. Men 
governed by motives. D'Aubigne, quoted, respecting a childhood party in England, 

* Switzerland and Germany. Animals, Birds and Fishes combine. Froude, quoted, re- 
specting the elements. Sir James Mackintosh, quoted, respecting property. Equity 
insured by law. Objects of law pp. 1-4 

FORMATION OF PARTIES. / 

Burke, quoted. Men of kindred views unite. Government, the business of to-day. V 
Administration of government influenced by parties. Objects of government. Burke, 
Fox and Sheridan. Dangers of neutrality. Parties, in all ages. Third parties. Prof. 
Smyth, quoted, respecting parties in Ancient Mexico. Robespierre, of no party and of 
all parties. The " Afterwise," spoken of by Addison. Parties among the gods. Ho- 
mer, quoted pp. 4r-6 



RELIGION PROMOTED BY PARTIES. 



Christianity. Mahometism, Paganism, Plato, Mythology. Greeks and Romans. Parties 
in prison. Polytheistic systems of religion. Neander respecting doctrinal questions of 



the church. Curious fact stated by Arago. Religion of the Chinese, — of Persia. 
Zeal of Christian nations. Missionary and Bible Societies pp.6-10 

SCIENCE ADVANCED BY PARTIES. 

Jealousy of unenlightened power. Science advanced by parties. Historical notices of 
— Copernicus, Socrates, Seneca, Gallileo, Aristotle, Harvey, Dr. Jenner, Pascal, Acos- 
ta. Sir Walter Raleigh. Superstition respecting dissection. All systems of Philosophy 
denounced. Theology. Moral and physical world. Bacon, Washington. Attributes 
of Christ. Patriotism. The professions of Law and Medicine, Fine Arts. . . pp. 10-13 

PARTY ACTION, AND ITS IMPORTANCE. 

Analysis of human motives. Expeditions of Prince Henry The Passions. Forces of 
Party Bubbles in time of George I. Subject of the work. Washington, Franklin, 
Madison, Lord Chatham, respecting the importance of party. Magna est Veritas et pre- 
valebity a party maxim. Hume and Paley, respecting passive men. Trimmers. Sir 
James Mackintosh — free governments. History of Democracy, object of the work. pp. 13-17 

THE TORY PARTY. 
Toryism defined. Origin of the name. The Whig Pa^ty of England— the democratic. 
Principles of the Tory Party. John Quincy Adams, respecting a party name. Jeffer- 



X CONTENTS. 

son, said " all were federalists." Gen. Jackson. Republicans. Sir James Mackintosh, 
respecting Tory Party. Sheridan's reply to Burke. Tory principles. Addison on 
[Toryism. Tory Creed, (Appendix, 617 p.) Mission of the Tory Party. Tory language. 
Burke, Col. Barr(5 and Lord North pp. 17_21 

.^ THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY. 

*^rigin of the word democracij. Guizot, respecting it. The principles of Democracy. Col. 
Barre and Lord North, in Parliament. Fox, respecting Pitt, the younger. Mission of 
Democracy. Vox populi est Vox Dei. Best form of government. Democracy in Eng- 
land and France. De Tocqueville pp. 21-29 

OBJECTS OF HISTORY. 
Objects of history stated. Man, capable of progress, the agent of knowledge. The 
^ certainty of the physical sciences. The business of the historian. The growth of na- 
tions pp. 29-31 

MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF CREATION. 

The Hebrew Government, that of God. Its Spirit of Love. History of Moses. Egypt 
and China , pp. 31-33 

jCNTERPRETATION of LANGUAGE. UNCERTAINTIES OF HISTORY. 
Situation of Civilized men varies and renews itself incessantly. Language does not 
change so rapidly as things. Unity and diversity of society. Christian civilization. 
Demosthenes and Cicero pp. 32-34 

REPUBLICS OF GREECE AND ROME. 
Language of Politics. Ancient Greece, Democracy of. The people of Athens. Lycur- 
I gus, Lacedsemon pp. 34-38 

REPUBLIC OF ROME. 
Its history, Decline and Fall. The causes pp. 38-45 

HUMAN PROGRESS. 
Principles and evidences of Human Progress pp. 45-46 

FRANCE. 
History of Freedom in France pp. 46-52 

ORIGIN AND GROWTH OF NATIONS. 

The study of Principles. Barbarism and Civilization. Real and apparent aspects of 
Society pp. 52-53 

ENGLAND. 

Locality, origin and mission of. Ruled by a foreign power. "William, and Feudalism. 
The Heptarchy. Sovereign Power pp. 53-57 

PROTECTORATE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. 
Sketch of Charles I, and Cromwell. Their respective merits considered. Events of the J 
Period. Their teachings. The Puritans, Royalty, its means of safety. Religious Lib- 
erty. Civil Liberty. Magna Charta. Habeas Corpus Act. Freedom of Parliament. 
House of Commons. Introductory Remarks pp. 57-78 

VOX POPULI EST VOX DEI. 
Sacred feature of Democracy. Ancient maxim. Spiritual progress. Christianity. Re- 
ligion " the nurse of the people." The rule of Deity in all ages of the world. No re- 
ligion to be despised. Mighty sway of the religious principle. Evidences iu the truth 



CONTENTS. XI 

' of the maxim, to be found in the origin and growth of the American Colonies. Tri- 
umphs of Democracy ' • r PP- ''^S-86 

AMERICAN COLONIES. POLITICAL HISTORY. 
Objects of Political History. Faculties of the Human Mind. Herschelon the Physical 
Sciences. Human agency. England in 16th and 17th centuries— to be studied in con- 
nection with the Settlement of America pp. 87-88 

THE PRINCIPLES OF COLONIZATION. 
The inward and outward action of the mind. Bacon and Franklin—pioneers of knowl- Y 
edge. Sir Isaac Newton, La Place, Virgil, Columbus. Discoveries of the 15th Century. 
Glory of the 17th Century. Honor to the Pioneer. Daniel Boone. Franklin, Professors 
[ Henry and Morse and The Telegraph, Sisraondi on Colonization of the Greeks, Egyp- 
i tians and Phoenicians. Homer, the father of Geography. Bible, commanding coloni- 
zation. Spanish colonies. Colonies of North America pp. 88-96 

ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN COLONIES. 
Discovery of America by Columbus. England, France, Spain, Germany, Switzerland 
and Holland, as nations. Periods of 16lh and 17th Centuries, Mariner's compass and 't/' 
gunpowder. Age of vipers. Toleration a virtue or crime. The Inquisition. Indus- 
try and Taxation. Women at the Pailiatnent House demanding redress of grievances. 
Religious and Civil Liberty pp. 96-103 

THE PURITANS IN ENGLAND. 
The Bible, the Puritans statute book. Puritan, a name of reproach. Views of Puri- 
tans. Peter Wentworth, a bold Puritan of Parliament. Remarkable examination be- 
fore a Committee of Parliament. His loyalty and independence pp. 102-109 

THE PURITANS IN AMERICA. 
Political survey of the Colonies. The Pilgrims at Plymouth. The thirteen colonies. 
Motives of the Puritans. Spirit of liberty preserved by them. Hume quoted. Hon. 
Joel Parker, quoted. Puritans, saw in God a King above royalty pp. 109-111 

LOVE OF NATIVE LAND. 

" Mother Country," no unmeaning phrase. Puritan's love of Home pp. 111-113 

POLITICAL RELATIONS OF THE PURITANS. 

The Right of Englishmen to emigrate. John Adams, quoted. Compact on board of 
the Mayflower. Signatures to Compact p. 113 

INSTRUCTION, NOT SELF-AGGRANDIZEMENT, THE OBJECT OF POLITICAL 

HISTORY. 

Progressive measures. Error of Confounding Original Causes with Human Motives, p. 115 

DEMOCRACY NO NEW SYSTEM OF MODERN TIMES. 

Democracy in all ages. Democracy and the American Continent p. 116 

A CONTEST FOR THE GREATEST LIBERTY. 
Disjjosition of the Human Mind to extend control. Colonies placed in new relations. 
Revolution in Russia. Execution of Ryleieff. Teachings of the Bible. ... p. 117 

CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL EXISTENCE. 
Sources of National Existence. Growth and Greatness. Survey of different Nations. 

Truth and Justice p. 119 

COLONISTS' HABITS OF APPLICATION AND PRUDENCE EARLY ESTAB- 
LISHED. 
Pride of Duty. Bounds of Duty. Wants limited within the compass of stern necessi- 
ties. Idleness and Frivolity rebuked p. 120 



Xii CONTENTS. 

FORMATION OF CHARACTER AIDED BY EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 
Man, not alone. The Agent of Power, or the Subject of Submission. Favored or op- 
posed by circumstances. New England in 1638— the Climate of. Rev. Robert Cush- 
man •.. p. 121 

NATIONAL SOVEREIGNTY. 

Analysis of the subject. This great Principle Developed by the Colonists. Massachu- 
setts Charter of 1628. Sovereignty of Democracy. Sovereignty of the Religious 
World. Political sovereignty. Territory the foundation of interest. Union and State 
Rights. Town Governments pp. 122-126 

THE EXERCISE OF EQUAL RIGHTS. 
Cannot spring from unequal beginnings. Results of imperfect Laws. Condition of 
France. Errors of Socialists. *' Live and let live." p. 126 

EQUALITY IS BEST COMMENCED IN POVERTY. 

Poverty aided by necessity. Poverty of Possession, of Sentiment. The gifts of Human- 
ity. Property of Colonists. Gov. Bradford, Miles Standish, Edward Gray. Majority 
Principle. Sovereignty of Democracy. Guizot and Rousseau. Merchant adven- 
turers of London. Articles of Agreement pp. 126-129 

THE PRINCIPLE OF INTEGRITY. 

Democracy nothing without Integrity. Were the Puritans honest ? Integrity necessary 
to Sovereignty. Basis of eternal Order. Colonists strict constructionists. Institu- 
tions indicate character : p. 130 

POPULAR EDUCATION. 

Power of Knowledge. Learning in England in 1640. Livingston's Penal Code of Louisi- 
ana, New England Free Schools. Harvard College. Self-knowledge. Education in 
different nations. Errors of Historians. Power of Truth. Popular Education in Eng- 
land, France, Germany, Spain, Russia, China, Prussia. Tyrants and Knowledge. Crim- 
inals, their Education. Peter Wentworth and the House of Commons. The Farmer. 
The Mechanic. Mind practically omnipresent. Comprenensive views of the Puritans 
of the importance of Education. The American Union pp. 131-140 

LEGISLATION OF THE PURITANS. 

The Bible. Theocratic Rule. Equal Rights. Division of Lands. Trial by Jury. No am- 
bition for office. Their Laws. The Indian. American Continent. Revision of Laws. 
New Plymouth. William Penn and Pennsylvania. Revolution in England. . pp. 140-150 

COLONIAL GOVERNMENTS. 
Three kinds Colonial Governments : The Provincial ; The Proprietary ; The Charter, p. 151 

PERIODS OF PARTY. RESULTS OF PARTY PRINCIPLES. 
Permanent and progressive Parties. Periods- of action. Results. Religion. Science. 
Political Parties. Human Power. Ideas. p. 154 

POLITICAL PARTIES OF THE COLONIES. 
Facts of History classified. Want of continuity in Colonial History. Colonists were 
Party men. Their views of Parliament. Toleration. Virginia and Massachusetts— 
the Mothers of States. Rhode Island. Roger Williams. Religious Liberty. Pedigree 
of Freedom. Survey of Colonial events. Democracy in England and America. Rev- 
olutions and Commotions of Europe. Treaty of Utrecht. Foreign control of the 
Colonies. Questions of Interests and of Rights. pp. 155-167 

THE SOURCES OF CIVIL powe::i. 

Three sources of power. Royalty. Most men comparatively poor. Industry, Wants 



CONTENTS. xiii 

and Wealth. The Kinfj^, Lords and Parliament. Liberty and obedience. God. and Lib- 
erty. Sources of Colonial success. ^ p. 168 

VIRGINIA. 

First Settlers. Date of Settlement. King James and the Colony. First Assembly in 
America. Early Parties. Government of the Colony. Productions. Want of Enter- 
prise. Charles I. and Cromwell. Sentiments of the Planters. Annals of the Colony. 
Revolution of 1688. James II. William and Mary. Statesmen of the Colony. The 
Mother of States and Statesmen. pp. 171-183 

SOUTH CAROLINA. 

First Settlement of the Colony. Motives of Colonists. From every Nation. Constitu- 
tion aud Laws framed by John Locke. Parties. Colony divided. North Carolina. Ed- 
ucation. Democracy pp. 182-188 

NEW YORK. 

First settlement. Business purposes. Dutch Proprietors. Discovery of the North Riv- 
er. Manhattan Island — New Amsterdam — Brooklyn. Dutch West India Company. 
The States General. Government of Holland, The Colony one of Holland's Work 
Shops. New Netherlands. Capt. John Underbill, Peter Stuyvesant. The Puritan and 
Dutch Republican. Tyranny of Wealth. Democrats of England and Holland. Free- 
doms and Exemptions. Patroons. Results of Democracy. New Jersey. Party Con- 
tests , pp. 188-203 

NEW HAMPSHIRE. 

New Hampshire, subject of Mortgage and Sale. Character above property. Fruits of 
persecution in Scotland and Massachusetts. First Settlers. Their character, bravery 
and perils. Fernando Gorges and Capt. John Mason. United with Massachusetts. 
Divided. Claims of the King and Proprietaries. Religious Liberty. Cromwell and 
Wheelright. Democracy and its triumphs pp. 202-206 

GEORGIA. 
Settlement of Georgia— an experiment of Benevolence. Colonization and Charity. Lord 
Percival, James Oglethorpe, and others. Royalty and Charity, in Parliament to- 
gether. Imperfections of Theories. Composition of Progress. The Jails of Great 
Britain. Prisoners released for Transportation. The Charter of Georgia. The Politi- 
cal Foundation of. Georgia to be made a Silk, Wine, Oil, and Drug growing Colony. 
Extension of Christianity. Jews emigrate from London to Georgia. Designs of Trus- 
tees. Their Errors. Truths developed by failures pp. 206-219 

MARYLAND. 

First Settlement of Maryland. It was named in the Charter Terra ilfaWa— Mary's Land. 
Puritans of Maryland. Wm. Clayborne, Cecilius Calvert, Second Lord Baltimore. 
Population of Maryland. Sir Lionel Copley, appointed Governor by Wm, III. Intol- 
erance of Virginia gave birth to Maryland. Papacy. Calvert Family. Representative 
Government. Religious Freedom. Democracy recognized by a Catholic. Zeal for ex- 
tending Christianity. Toleration. Kindness to the Indians. Lord Baltimore invited 
the Puritans of Massachusetts to emigrate to Maryland. Catholicism and Protestant- 
ism. Charles I, and Charles II. Democracy pp. 219-2S1 

PENNSYLVANIA. 

A Quaker Settlement. Orisrin. Wm. Penn. Spirit of Peace and of Humility. Family 
of Penn. Government of Pennsylvania. Frame of. Penn endeavored to improve Col- 
onial Government, A believer in Fundamental Principles. His high position. His 
Motives and belief. His Candor and simplicity. One of the Trustees of New Jersey. 
Territory, and the Government of New Jersey, Penn's relations to the Crown. Qua- 
kerism. Quakerism— a Democracy. The teachings of the Bible. Equality. Doctrine 



XIV CONTENTS. 

of George Fox. Persecution of the Quakers. Laws against Dissenters. Penn's Proc- 
lamation to liis vassals and subjects. Certain Conditions and Concessions. Penn visits 
America. Is opposed to Monopolies. His Reception. Quaker Proprietaries in Eng- 
land declared for Democracy. Pcnn's views of Government. *' The Frame." Laws 
Agreed upon in England. Character and Defence of Penn. Letter of Penn. Frank- 
liu's Review of Pennsylvania. Party Controversies. Troubles. Proprietaries claim 
exempLion from Taxation. What the History of Pennsylvania teaches. . . pp. 231-76 

MASSACHUSETTS, CONNECTICUT, AND RHODE ISLAND. 

First Settlement of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. Pilgrims at Plym- 
outh. Province of Massachusetts. United Colonies of New England. Maine and 
New Hampshire. Provisional Government. Territory of Connecticut. Dutch, of New 
Amsterdam, build a Fort at Hartford. Settlement at New Haven. Charter Oak. 
Rhode Island— founded by Roger Williams. Providence Plantation. Democratic Gov- 
ernment established. Portsmouth, Newport and Providence. First General Assem- 
bly at Portsmouth. First Government in Providence. " Democratical." First and 
Second Charters granted by Charles II. Roger Williams. Fathers of Connecticut 
■were Republicans. Their Laws, and their Character. New England — the centre of 
Democracy. Intolerant Laws of Connecticut. Religionists, and not Politicians. A 
Continental Policy. Drummer's Defence of New England Charters. Massachusetts 
and the Home Government. Party prudence of the Colonists. War against Indians. 
Temper of Great Britain towards the Colonies. British Commissioners appointed by 
Charles II, to hear and determine Complaints of Colonists. Commission resisted in 
Massachusetts. Search for Whalley and Goffe. Reception of the British Commission- 
er by " the Trained Bands of Hartford." Sir Edmund Andros, and a body of Troops 
in Hartford, Demanded the Charter of Connecticut. Increased jealousy of the 
Crown, and firmness of the Colonists pp. 277-286 

POLITICAL AND NATIONAL PROGRESS. SUPREMACY OF MIND. 
Man himself makes the World. Origin and Growth of Nations. The Common- 
wealth of Faculties. Phenomena of the External World, Themes for contemplatior. 
Astronomy, Magnetic Needle, etc., known to the Chinese at an early period. Geol- 
ogy, Idea of History— of Greeks and Romans. Nature considered rationally. Begin- 
ning of a Nation. Democracy in its combinations. Instruction of peace in Ipswich 
in 1765, A new Nation the offspring of the past. Votaries of Science, of Morals, of 
Government. . . • pp. 187-193 

WHAT CONSTITUTES A NATION, 
Growth of Nations governed by Fixed Laws. France, Spain and England. Education. 
Blackstone in America. Burke respecting Laws of Empire, Despotism and Democ- 
racy compared. Rank and Position of United States, Conditions of Social Peace. 
Guizot's Views, Revolutionary Periods of France. National and Political Unity. 
What a Nation is, and is not pp. 292-297 

NATIONS ARE NOT FORMED BY CHANCE. 

Man only an humble agent. He can neither make nor destroy, 

CONVENTIONAL CONFLICT AND ACTION. 

Limited motives of Man. Illimitable designs of Providence, New period of power. 

■ Duty a necessity. Jealousy of rulers, America not annexed to the Realm, Princi- 
ples the levers of Progress, Government of England, a progressive Monarchy, Democ- 
racy of Republicanism. Industry of American Continent, Political relations of 
Duty pp. 297-300 

GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS, 
Government defined, Human Government, Divine Government. Different writers 
quoted. Conscience, Intelligence and Judgment. A good or bad Government. Mont- 



CONTENTS. XV 

esquieu on the English Government. Government of the Saints. The Tyrant's Plea- 
necessity. Military Power. Church variable and divided. Government of Nature. 
Good awd Evil. Christian Rule. Vox Populi est Vox Dei. Precepts of Solomon. Infi- 
nite Wisdom. Human Wisdom. Instinct. Origin of Government. Government and 
Knowledge. What Government really is pp. 300-314 

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOVERNMENT AND THE ADMINISTRATION OF 

GOVERNMENT. 

Organization of Government. Government one thing, its Administration quite another. 
Guizot on Democracy. Guizot on Administration of Government. Distinction between 
Constitution and Government. Defined by Bolingbroke. British Constitution, pp. 314-318 

THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 

Government Absolute or Democratic. Constitutions classified. The British Constitu- 
tion. One of Growth. Hallam respecting. Its Democracy its chief Glory. The 
Heptarchy. Origin of Towns and Counties. Character of the British Constitu- 
tion pp. 318-323 

THE BEST FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 
Human judgment not equal to human wishes. What form of Government best. Mon- 
archy the best or worst form. Plato. Conditions of comparison. . ... p. 323 

MONARCHY. 

A Monarchy, what it is. Established by Nature. Mixed Monarchy. Genius of Monar- 
chy. Subject discussed in Convention of Pennsylvania. John Dickinson. His speech. 
Monarchy, a historical fact. Royal Pedigree. Monarchy and Democracy. "Farm- 
er's Letters." Monarchy — by whom favored. Not necessary to England. Cromwell. 
Colonists— divided as to Monarchy. The Clergy. Monarchy, not favored by the 
Bible. French Revolution. Whig and Tory Parties. Monarchy a Party Ques- 
tion pp. 32J-339 

^ ' REPUBLICANISM. 

True definition of Republicanism. Composition of Republics. Ultimate Truths. Con- 
ditions of Republican existence. Government of Mexico. France. England, Ire- 
land, Scotland and Wales. AH good Governments must be Republican. Republican 
spirit of the Colonists. Their Loyalty. Republicanism not a Party Question. Colo- 
nies independent of one another. Prepared for a Crisis. Democratic Republic, pp. 339-344 

POLITICAL PERIODS OF ENGLA.ND, PRECEDING THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 

Teachings of History. Progress seen in long intervals. Principles of Party. Nations 
to be studied together. Identity of Truth. Democracy the same everywhere. Sur- 
vey of Political Events of England, from the Commonwealth of Cromwell, to the 
reign of Geo. Ill, and American Revolution. Commonwealth of Cromwell. Events 
of his rule— His character pp. 344-356 

CHARLES THE SECOND. 
Charles II, and Cromwell compared. The Restoration. Character of Charles II. His 
popularity. His views of Politics and Duty. Presbyterians and Independents. State 
of Parties. Parliament had no confidence in the King. Politics and the Pulpit. 
Burke. Act of Oblivion. Episcopacy. Hobbes. Habits of the King. Sale of Dun- 
kirk. Puritans. Clarendon. Frequent Parliaments. The Cabal. Era of Sin and 
degradation. Rule of Providence. Liberty in England. Classes and Parties. King's 
last Parliament. Authors cited. Patriotic leaders. Popish and Rye-house Plots. 
Period of Fanaticism and Horrors. Democracy of the times. Great events of Eng- 
land. Triple Alliance. Degrading habits of the King. His resentments. Shameless 
Bribery. Relations between Louis XIV and the King of England. Character of Louis 
XIV. The King and the Commons. Marriage of Prince of Orange and Mary. Kiug 



Xvi CONTENTS. 

ceased to be merry. His illness and death. Deatli-bod scene. A Catholic Priest 
sent for. Rumors as to the causes of his death. Events of the Reign of Charles IL 
Lord Boliugbroke respecting the Whig and Tory Parties. Barillou's Correspondence. 
Sidney— his views and character. The Effrontery of the Tory Party. University of 
Oxford. Indemnity Act. Exclusion Bill. Test Act. Freedom of London. Large 
Cities Democratic. Oxford — strong-hold of Toryism. Royalty not honored by 
Charles 11 pp. 356-396 

JAMES THE SECOND. 
Charles II, and James II,— compared. Circumstances favorable to James. Congrat- 
ulated by Quakers. Review of Charles I. Cromwell and Charles 11. Character of 
James. Proclaimed without dissent. His knowledge of the relations between Louis 
XIV and Charles II. Extreme Measures of the Tories. Extreme views of James. 
Divine Right of King's. Monmouth's Claim to the Crown. His Rebellion. His Exe- 
cution. Persecution of influential Dissenters. Bunyan, Baxter, Locke, Howe. The 
Bloody Record of Jeffreys, the Lord Chief Justice. James, a consistent Tyrant. A 
Papist and infallible. Acknowledged the Pope. Superstition— what it is. Entry of 
the Pope's nuncio. Conflict of Parties. Incapacity of James. Ignorance of the Peo- 
ple. Trial of the Bishops. Control of the Army. Unprincipled Parties. Party of 
the People. Marriage of Prince of Orange. Character of Authors of the Revolution. 
Invasion of England. Declaration of Popular Rights. Singular conduct of James. 
Union of best and worst men. Promises and treachery of James. Character of 
Prince of Orange. Importance of the Revolution. Charges against James. Declara- 
tion of Parliament. Revolution of 1688— defensive. Democracy. Crown made 
Elective , .... pp. 396-434 

"WILLIAM AND MART. 

Reign of William and Mary. Review of. His Difliculties and Trials. His Character. 
Deceived by the Tories. Reign of expensive extension. Revolution, a Triumph of 
Democracy. Declaration of Right. William complimented by Macaulay. . pp. 434-441 

QUEEN ANNE. 
Lady Anne, wife of Prince George of Denmark, — declared Queen. Great and small men 
in the public service. Alarm of the Whigs at the death of William. Anne — her 
capacity and education. A Tory, of narrow views and prejudices. Devoted to the 
Church. Duchess of Malboro's view of the Church. Anne's nice sense of decorum. 
Her Speech from the Throne. Dissenters persecuted. House of Lords — reconstructed. 
Test Act. Tories appointed to Office. Extreme Measures of the Tories. Elections. 
''■Church in Danger." Religious Freedom in Ireland. Union with Scotland. Politi- 
cal Union. Parliament suggests a Second Marriage to the Queen. Dogmas of Theol- 
ogy. Augustan age of Literature. Distinguished Whigs and Tories. "The Exam- 
iner." "TheTatler." Alliance of Literature with Politics. Sir Richard Steele. His 
Expulsion and Defence. Democracy — not partisanship. Strength and weakness in 
Administration of Government. Duchess of Marlborough and Abigail Hill. War 
against France. Lord Marlborough. Bolingbroke as an adviser. War a condition of 
Injustice. Power, nature of. Peace. England and France. Louis XIV— defence 
of. Duke - of Marlborough, character, acts and defence of. Greatness and 
weakness of Man. Inequality of Human Agency. Ostracism. Mythological charac- 
ter of Hercules. The Age of Marlborough — and his position in it. His Party experi- 
ence, and his ultimate conclusions in favor of Democracy. His Loyalty. His Devo- 
tion to his wife. Mrs. Freeman and Mrs. Morley. Mr. Freeman and Mr. Montgomery. 
Party remedies. The no party man. The Duchess of Marlborough and the Queen. 

THE MISSION AND CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMAN. 
Comparison of the Sexes. Two spheres of Duty. Mission of Man. Mission and char- 
acteristics of Woman. Female Suffrage. Taxation and Representation. Property. 
Distinguished Females. Beauty. Pleasures of Fashion. History of Woman. What 



CONTENTS. Xvii 

she has done and is able to do. Her connection with Government. Her Iiifluence on 
Public Men. The Salic Law. Caius Marcius Coriolanus, his wife and mother. Wo- 
men of France during the Revolution, Women of the Colonies— during the American 
Revolution. Views of Jefferson, Franklin, Hamilton, and other authors. Jealousy- 
analysis of. Woman and Democracy. Lines of Tennyson pp. 471-490 

DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. 

Defence of her character and acts. Self knowledge. Her love of property, and its 
uses. Her Mission. Her influence on her husband. Her relations with Queen 
Anne pp. 491-497 

:m:easures and party features of the reign of anne. 

Great Questions debated and decided. Violence of Party. Her treatment of Lord 
Marlborough. Responsibilities and difficulties of Commanders of Armies. Experi- 
ence of the Duke of Marlborough. The Duke and the People. Bolingbroke, Harley 
and Mrs„Masham. Lord Marlborough's confidence in the Whigs, his detestation of 
Harley. Death of Anne. Royalty no power to bless a nation. The reign of Anne. pp. 441-506 

GEORGE L 
Anne, and the Tory Party. George Lewis, under title of George I. His birth, educa- 
tion, character and marriage. Discards his wife. George, only the Elector of Hanover. 
Addison's opinion of him. Anecdotes, and uncertainties of George I. His Mis- 
tresses. A decided Whig. Addison as a Democrat. To him Democracy was Christi- 
anity. Democracy the same in all nations, in all time. The Herods and Pharaohs of 
the World. Rebellion of 1715. The Septennial Bill. The Party Caucus. Policy of 
George I. Conventional Rights of Political Parties. Mistakes of the Whig Party. 
Wm. Ill, and the Triennial Bill. Amusing chapter of party inconsistencies. For a 
temporary purpose, Tories favor popular Rights. Character of Shippen. Legislative 
Trusts. Evils of Hereditary Monarchy. Toryism adverse to Parental AfTection. 
Peerage Bill. Controversy between Addison and Steele. Speculative Age. South 
Sea Bubble. Bolingbroke Proposes a New Party. What is a Whig ? What is a 
Tory? Bolingbroke and the Women. Lament of Bolingbroke. Teachings of the 
reign of George I. A nominal Democracy superior to a real Monarchy. Importance 
of Royalty still undiscovered > • • • • PP- 508-530 

GEORGE n. 
The events which marked the accession of George II to the British throne. Royalty 
aided by an indiflferent democratic faith— superior to Toryism. Record of hereditary 
monarchy. Gideon of Manasseh. Abimelech and Jotham. Fable of the Trees. 
The bramble annointed King. Person and Character of George II. Power of ciphers. 
No author can write accurately except of his own times. George 11. governed by the 
Queen. His domestic life. Rule of weak and bad men. Character of the Queen. 
The King and queen, as parents. Frederic, the Prince of Wales. George II. Sir Robert 
Walpole, and Sir Spencer Compton. Interview between Sir Robert and the King. 
Systems of political guarantees. Guizot quoted. Different ways of doing the same 
thing. Habits of social life, and of parties. Representative party men. Democracy 
always triumphs, Toryism, never. George II. believed in royalty and democracy. Party 
appeals to young men. An age of corruption. Great influence of Speaker Onslow. 
State of parties. Inconsistencies of parties. Prohibitive legislation. Democracy, 
defended by a Tory. Reduction of Interest. Walpole's treatment of the Dissenters. 
Test Act. The Quakers. Frederic, Prince of Wales, his sad fate. The Sloth. Sir 
Charles Bell, quoted. Lord Hervey— the Boswell of the King and Queen. His descrip- 
tion of the Prince of Wales. The power of to-day. The Prince of Wales refused 
admission to the death bed of his mother. Revolting conduct of the King. Lines on 
Prince Fred. Thackery on the death-bed scene of the Queen. Reasons why women 



XVlll CONTENTS. 

should not cngas^e in politics. Relii^ious wars, the most bloody. Political frenzy. 
Alienations of the affections. Desperate expedients of the Tories. Influence of Pitt. 
History of principle. Excise Bill. The Place Bill. Repeal of the Septennial Act, 
jiroposed by Bolingbroke. Writ of Habeas Corpus. The test of parties. Earl Camden. 
The discretion of a judge the law of tyrants. Examples of political history. Sir 
Robert Walpole— his character and policy— His resignation. Created Earl of Orford. 
Pulteney. " The statesman," a satire. Walpole and Pulteney. Coalition Whigs. 
Carteret, his habits and character. A convenient tool, " The drunken administra- 
tion." Pelham made Chancellor of the exchequer. Royalty leagued with incapacity. 
*' Broad-bottomed administration." Death of Bolingbroke and Earl of Orford. Jeal- 
ousy of Newcastle. Pitt called to the Cabinet, Dismissed and reinstated. Cooke's 
views of Pitt. Pitt's success due to democracy. His genius and principles. Boling- 
broke and Pitt — compared. Achievements of democracy. Continued failures of Roy- 
alty and Toryism pp. 530-586 

GEORGE III. 

Propitious period for royalty to have a new start. England prosperous, and parties 
were tranquil. Policy of George III. Resolved to be more than King. Royalty natu- 
rally seeks toryism as an ally. Early character of the King, His education. His early 
loves. Tory party dead. Theory of no party. Pelham party. King influenced by his 
mother. " George, be King." Lord Camden's prediction respecting the King. The 
Interior Cabinet. The Pelham party. Appointment of Earl of Bute the King's favorite. 
Commercial greatness of England. John Wilkes, origin, character and influence. 
Tories trusted, and Whigs proscribed. "Men, not measures." Self-imposed duties of 
the King— difficult and dangerous. The "favorite." A headless party. Bute, and 
Pitt. Dr. Smollett, respecting Bute. Mind and passion. High qualities of Pitt. 
Tory sentiments of Lord Granville. Resignation of Bute. Negotiations with Pitt. 
ImpoVtant period in the history of England. Tory party revived. Period of darkness. 
The future of England and America. The two great parties of the world— in conflict. 
The patriots of England and America. Nothing that is great and good for humanity 
impossible. Close of the first volume, and the commencement of the second, pp. 586-615 

APPENDIX. 

A Tory's Creed. How the people of England are represented. Theory of Political 
Trimmers. Enunciation of Torvism. Coriolanus, his wife and mother. The Empire 
State. Gov. Seymour's Lecture. The South Sea and other Schemes. List of Bubbles. 
Lines on Exchange Alley Bubbles. The importance of woman as woman. Early set- 
tlement of Connecticut pp. 615-661 , 



POKTEAITS OF DISTINGUISHED MEK 



Plate I. 

George Washikgtoit. 
Patrick Henry. 
Be2!^jamin" Franklin". 
John Hancock. 
Samuel Adams. 
James Madison. 
Thomas jEEFERSOij'. 

Plate II. 

John Locke. 
John Milton. 
Sir Isaac Newton, 
Edmund Burke. 
Joseph Addison 
Lord Camden 
Lord Chatham. 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

PEINCIPLES OF PARTY. 

What thinking and acting are to the individual, party is to society. 

Party is the great engine of human progress. It is a combination of men 
of similar views, and kindred sjTnpathies, for moral or political supremacy. 
It leads to the war of knowledge upon ignorance, the conflict of holiness 
against sin, the struggles of fi-eedom against tjTanny. It is to be found in 
man as an individual, swaj^ed by the opposing passions of the soul, whether 
for good or evil, and by the objects of choice, whether yielding to or resist- 
ing the spirit of temptation.^ It is to be found in the numerous associations 
of societ}^ for influence, controlling customs, forming habits, advancing fash- 
ions, and modifying, limiting or extending, the social or domestic duties. It 
divides the church in regard to the sacred teachings of the holy scriptures ; 
and sects spring up to defend their varying creeds, each opposing each, and 
each opposing all.^ The votaries of science have their favorite schools and 
classics, and party zeal is made to quicken the conceptions of genius. Bold 
and righteous men rise up as partisans against the world, pledged as mar- 
tjTS to reformation. The people of every nation divide and subdivide in 
regard to their national rights and interests, and we sometimes have the sub- 
lime spectacle of parties made up of emperors, kings and presidents ; of 
empires, monarchies and republics, discussing the great principles of national 
law, intervention, and the balance of power. 

A world without party would be incapable of progress. To believe in a 
world incapable of progress, is practical atheism. What the science of me- 
chanics is to matter, part}' is to knowledge. The one leads to the improve- 
ment of material things, the other to the advancement of societ3\ With 
a knowledge of the former, an Arkwright and a Fulton can enrich a people ; 

1 Romans 7 : 15-23. One thing establisheth the good of another ; 

2 "All things are double one against an- and who shall be filled with beholding his. 
other; and he hath made nothing imperfect, glory?" — Ecclesiasticus 42 : 24, 25.. 

1 



Z HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and with a just realization of the latter, a Locke, a Franklin, and a Wash- 
ington, can bless a nation. 

Part}' ma}' be denominated the manifold form of moral power in action. 
Its elements are to be found in the principles of human nature. It is 
moved b}' the un3-ielding forces of instinctive impulse and ambition, and 
sustained b}' the illimitable resources of interest and of opinion. While it is 
temporaril}' perverted to subserve the cause of wrong and error, it perma- 
nentl}' aids in opening the paths of truth. It has an onward and a conserv- 
ative power, and whatever is conceived bj one mind is sure to find its 
antagonistic principle in the mind of another. 

No science, no great truth, is ever permitted to find favor without opposi- 
tion, or credence without contest. Truth is passed through the conflict of 
opinion, as the oaks of the forest are nursed by the tempest and the whirl- 
wind, every storm extending the roots and adding vigor to the branches. 
To oppose truth is to challenge attention, and to denounce it is to unfold its 
beauty and to establish its power. ^ 

It may be profitable, for a moment, to consider the various sources of party 
spirit, and to endeavor to understand in what way parties are made to sub- 
serve the great cause of humanity. 

Man is both the agent of power and the subject of want. He is moved 
by passions, elevated b}^ sentiments, and controlled by opinions. He first 
becomes the pupil of parents, heir to their errors, as well as the recipient of 
their wisdom and knowledge. He is early trained as a partisan ; and often 
the child is seen to play the dogmatist with all the confidence of a philoso- 
pher, and all the zeal of a cardinal. He soon becomes familiar with the 

1 In speaking of poUtical parties in Eng- bounds of the civil and ecclesiastical power, 

land, Addison says, — "There is scarcely in the drinking of a pot of ale. What is 

any man in England, of what denomination more usual than, on a rejoicing night, to 

soever, that is not a free-thinker in politics, meet with a drunken cobbler bawling out 

and hath not some particular notions of his for the church, and perhaps knocked down 

own, by which he distinguishes himself a little after, by an enemy in his own pro- 

from the rest of the community. Our island fession, who is a lover of moderation." — * *. 

which Avas formerly called a nation of saints, "Almost every age, profession and sex 

may now be called a nation of statesmen." among us, has its favorite set of ministers, 

* *. "Who hath not observed several and scheme of government. 

parish clerks, that have ransacked Hopkins "Our children are initiated into factions 

and Sternhold for staves in favor of the before they know their right hand from 

race of Jacob ; after the example of their their left. They no sooner begin to speak 

politic predecessors in Oliver's days, who, but Whig and Tory are the first words they 

on every Sabbath, were for binding kings learn. They are taught in their infancy to 

in chains and nobles in links of iron ! You hate one half of the nation ; and contract all 

can scarcely see a bench of porters without t^e virulence and passion oi party, before 

• J. ' -4. 4.i,„* ^^n o^++i« they come to the use of their reason." — 
two or three casuists m it, that will settle -^ 



vyxiu the right of princes, and state 



the 



Freeholder', No. 53. 



PEIKCIPLES OF PAETY. ^ 

household words of cliques, creeds and platforms, and practises leadership 
by organizing imitation parties among his mates at the village school. In- 
deed, the little distinctions of boyhood often rise up, as formidable to chil- 
dren as the difficulties of nations appear to men. Their part}^ lines are 
defined by the boundaries of a neighborhood, or by sectional districts, indi- 
cated, it may be, only by the cardinal points of the compass. Still, their 
3'oung hearts leap in the strife of contest, though they have no interests at 
stake, and are conscious of no motive above that of mastering their antago- 
nists. ^ This is no fiction, as, without doubt, most men will be able to testify 
from personal experience. It shows not only that the elements of party are 
to be found in the constitution of things, but that they exist in harmony 
with the fundamental powers of the mind.^ 

Men are governed hj motives, and their motives are characterized by 
individual peculiarities. They are selfish or liberal, cruel or benevolent, just 
or unjust, timid or bold, safe or dangerous, oppressive or patriotic, according 
to the standard which each erects within himself, as his private or public 
rule of duty. But men cannot act alone. Every faculty of the mind is 
adapted to exert its peculiar power in societ3\ All have something to ask, 
something to give, and something to do. Want is the basis of business, gain 
the incentive to enterprise. The various combinations of the mental facul- 
ties result in the great diversitj^ of tastes, genius and capacitj^, which give 
employment and an interest to all. To possess the means of living, the com- 
forts and pleasures of life, is a necessity of our existence. Hence, the insti- 
tution of property ,3 wfiich is based upon the innate sense of acquisition. To 
be enabled to enjoj^ the fruits of one's own labor without hindi'ance or rob- 
bery, to protect the weak against the strong, the just against the unjust, is 

1 D'Aubigne speaks of a sect in Germany, Lord had promised his kingdom ; and af- 
Switzerland and England, who believed in fected some surprise that he seemed not to 
the necessity of returning to the simplicity have known that it was written, "Except 
and innocence of childhood, that the truth ye be converted, and become as little chil- 
is revealed by the Spirit to babes. They dren, ye shall in no case enter into the 
affected all the manners and sports of chil- kingdom of God." 

dren. A recent traveller in the Western ^ Animals, birds, fishes and insects, fre- 
States says "that he saw, on one occasion, quently combine for attack, or for purposes 
about a thousand men and women in a of defence against a common enemy. Even 
grove, rolling hoops, flying kites, playing the elements favor the wisest party. Eroude 
ball, shooting marbles, leaping, running, aptly says, — "The winds and waves are 
wrestling, boxing, rolling and tumbling in on the side of the best navigator — the sca- 
the grass ; the women caressing dolls, and man who best understands them. Place a 
men astride of sticks for horses, and the fool at the helm, and crew and passengers 
whole company intently engaged in all the Avill perish, be they ever so innocent." — 
sports of childhood." At last he ventured Address on Calvinism, p. 14. 
to ask what it meant. They told him they ^ gjj. James INIackintosh defines property 
professed to be little children, to whom the to be "legal possession." 



4 HISTOKY OF DEMOCIiACY. 

the object of government. To insure equity and the rights of opinion, are 
the objects of laws and their administration. We thus find man standing in 
a two-fold position, — as an individual in his private relations, and as a citi- 
zen of the commonwealth or nation, bound to sustain its interests, its laws, 
and its government in the administration of them. 



FORMATION OF PARTIES. 

It was a remark of Burke, made in the British Parliament, in his cele- 
brated reply to Fox, on the subject of the French Revolution, " that he who 
calls in the aid of an equal understanding doubles his own." It is on this 
simple principle that parties are formed. Men of kindred views, sj^mpathies 
and interests, join together for the promotion of a common cause. It may 
be from motives of ambition, to reach a position of power ;i from mercenar}'' 
considerations, or from a profound sense of public duty. It ma}^ relate to 
subjects of science, schemes of interest, or the great themes of religion, or 
of government. As government is the practical business of to-day, and of 
all time, — and while reformers propose to modify its organization, the laws 
or the mode of their administration, it is constantly exercising its power and 
authorit}^, — generally there can be but two great political parties, the one in 
possession of the legal prerogatives of government, and the other opposed to 
the continuance of the ruling dynasty. The reasons for this are obvious. 
The people can have at the same time but one government ; and if a party 
were to subdivide on questions of minor importance, it would fail to com- 
mand sufficient strength ever to be placed in power. The struggle, there- 
fore, is constantly and chiefly between those who conduct and favor the 
administration of government in accordance with certain avowed principles, 
and those who claim a superior rule in a different or in an opposite policy .2 

1 It is said that when it was known that a saries. Consequently there can be no posts 
breach between Fox and Burke must occur, or offices for men from whom the prevailing 
Sheridan wrote a short note to Carleton party can expect no manner of service. 
House for instructions. " Follow Fox," was Moreover, how can a man be neuter be- 
the laconic reply. tween two parties, each of whom represent 

2 "He that is not with me is against me ; their adversaries as designing those evils 
and he that gathereth not with me scattereth which are most apt to fill men with fears — 
abroad." — Mat. 12 : 30. ^ I mean, the destruction of the religion they 

This principle is too obvious to need much profess, and the dissolution of a government 

elucidation. "Those who stand neuter," which alone, in their opinion, can render 

says an old writer (1773), "are neither subjects happy? A man must be insensible, 

preferred nor trusted, by reason that one not to be moved with such dangers, when 

of the parties is always in power, and has convinced of their reality." — Dis. on Rise ^ 

nothing more at heart than the advancing Progress, ^c, Whigs and Tories^ ^c. 

of its friends, or gaining some of its adver- Pamphlet, p. 69. 



FORMATION OF PARTIES. 6 

It is true, other parties will occasionally rise up ; but they usually come 
from the varying ranks of moral reformers, and seek to ingraft some new 
feature on the general system, with a total disregard of theoretic harmony-, 
or the teachings of practical experience. As their objects are partial or limi- 
ted, prospective or impracticable, their position is usually one of remote 
influence, but not of control.^ 

In all ages parties have been viewed as indispensable to intelligent exist- 
ence. The sublime conceptions of Milton have opened to the wondering 
gaze of man the dread portals of heaven, where the King of kings is braved 
by rebellious angels. "The wisdom of God," said John Knox, "compelled 
the very malice of Satan, and such as were drowned in sin, to serve to his 
glor}', and to the profit of his elect." The pious monarchs of the Crusades, 
who had sufficient zeal to leave their kingdoms to aid in the sublime work of 
redeeming the holy sepulchi*e, could not labor together in harmony even 
upon the spot where the Prince of Peace was crucified. 

Cortes found parties in ancient Mexico. "As he proceeded in his enter- 
prise, he clearly perceived," saj^s Prof. Smyth, " that, though he had a pow- 
erful monarch and an immense empire to oppose in Montezuma and Mexico, 
still that he should find allies as he went along, and that, therefore, success 
was at least not impossible." " It was with the greatest pleasure," said 
Cortes, " that I saw their dissensions and animosities, for a way was thus 
opened me for their subjection. According to the proverb, ' From the moun- 
tain proceeds what burns the mountain ; * and ' the kingdom,' says the Gos- 
pel, ' that is divided against itself, cannot stand.' " In the visions of God, 
Ezekiel is commanded to prophesy against Jerusalem, against the prophets 
and shepherds of Israel, against Pharaoh, against Gog, the land of Magog 
and against the Ammonites. 

The mj'thological gods of the ancients had their divisions, wars and revo- 
lutions. In Homer a scene is described, of men, heroes and gods, mixed 
together in battle. The voice of Mars, the terrific shouts of the fight, the 
thunders of Jupiter, and the tempests of Neptune, combined to shake the 
whole battle-field, and the tops of the surrounding mountains. Even Pluto 

"Robespierre" says Lamartine, *'was not had its desired effect, foresaw all the 

of no party, but of all parties which in their inconveniences that would arise from it, 

turn served his ideal of the Revolution." though they kept their thoughts to them- 

Whatever he may have professed, he had selves till they discovered the issue. Nay, 

occasion for spies. there is nothing more usual than for some 

1 Addison speaks of a very considerable of these wise men, who applauded pub- 
class of politicians in England — which he lie measures before they were put in 
thinks are entitled to notice : He says, — execution, to condemn them upon their 
"These are such as we may call the After- proving unsuccessful." — Freeholder^ No. 
wise, who, when any project fails, or hath 53, p. 286. 



b HISTOEY OF DEMOCRACY. 

himself, " whose habitation was in the very centre of the earth, was so 
affrighted at the shock that he leapt from his throne." ^ 



EELIGION PROMOTED BY PARTIES. 

In regard to the momentous subject of religion, in all countries where 
freedom of opinion is tolerated, parties are numerous, and doctrines still 
more so.2 Christianity is the only system of religion, it is asserted by 
Kliefoth, which has what can be called doctrines. 3 Mahometanism has its 
Koran ; but the Koran is the book of no sect, and has but one interpretation. 
The Hindoos have their Yedas ; but, as these books are written in the Sans- 
crit, which is now a dead language, and only understood by the priests or 
brahmins, they are subject entirely to their control. The ancient Greeks 
and Romans had their mythologies ; but they spoke one language, which 
admitted of no diversity of construction."* Plato did not speculate upon the 



1 See Addison's Spectator, No. 333. "The 
term Mythology," says Prof. Park, "was 
first applied to the Greek and Roman sys- 
tems of fables, or Classic Mythology; but it 
has since been extended to those of heathen 
nations generally. The Romans borrowed 
their system from the Greeks ; and it is now 
well ascertained that the Greeks derived 
theirs from the Egyptians and Phcenicians. 
All these systems, as also those of the Per- 
sians, Hindoos, Boodhists, Scandinavians, 
and American Indians, alike bear traces of 
the Scripture History, and the ancient re- 
ligion of the patriarchs ; from which, doubt- 
less, they have all been derived, with various 
degrees of corruption." — Pantology, p. 129. 
2 "The parties affected are innumerable 
almost, and scattered ovei the face of the 
earth, far and near ; and so have been in all 
precedent ages, from the beginning of the 
world to these times, of all sorts and condi- 
tions." This was the language of Robert 
Burton, two hundred and seventy years ago. 
—Anat. Mel., Vol. II., p. 487. 

"I am about to report a curious fact," 
says Arago, in his autobiography, "and one 
which shows that politics, which insinuate 
themselves and bring discord into the bosom 
of the most united families, had succeeded, 



strange to say, in penetrating as far as the 
galley-slaves' prison at Algiers. The slaves 
belonged to three nations ; there were in 1809 
in tiiis prison, Portuguese, Neapolitans, and 
Sicilians; among these two latter classes 
were counted partisans of Murat and those 
of Ferdinand of Naples. One day, at the 
beginning of the year, a dragoman came in 
the name of the Dey to beg M. Dubois- 
Thainville to go without delay to the prison, 
where the friends of the French and their 
adversaries had involved themselves in a 
furious combat; and already several had 
fallen. The weapon with which they struck 
each other was the heavy long chain, at- 
tached to their legs." — Prof. Henry's Re- 
port.— 1870. 

3 Neander, in his History of the Church, 
has shown how the doctrinal questions 
which agitated the church of the first centu- 
ries were quite different from those dis- 
cussed in the middle ages ; the former being 
mostly theological, and the latter anthro- 
pological. 

4 All polytheistic systems of Religion rec« 
ognize some representative of the divine 
principle — which the Christian sees only in 
the Supreme Being. In the course of time 
the sun, the planets, the elements, idols 



RELIGION PROMOTED BY PARTIES. 



gods, nor upon the articles of the Grecian faith. The state religion of the 
Chinese does not consist of doctrines, which are to be taught, learned and 



and beasts, the sources of good and evil, 
the human passions, the moral virtues, he- 
roes, benefactors and even destroyers of 
mankind — have been deified, as gods or 
demigods, and made objects of adoration. 
This subject has been so happily presented 
by Gibbon, that the cursory reader might 
be led to regard polytheism as favorable to 
universal toleration. In speaking of the 
Roman Empire in its greatness, he says, — 
*' The policy of the emperors and the sen- 
ate, as far as it concerned religion, was 
happily seconded by the reflections of the 
enlightened, and by the habits of the super- 
stitious part of their subjects. The various 
modes of worship which prevailed in the 
Roman world, were all considered by the 
people as equally true ; by the philosopher 
as equally false ; and by the magistrate as 
equally useful. And thus toleration pro- 
duced not only mutual indulgence, but even 
religious concord. 

The superstition of the people was not 
imbittered by any mixture of theological 
rancor ; nor was it confined by the chains 
of any speculative system. The devout 
polytheist, though fondly attached to his 
national rites, admitted with implicit faith 
the different religions of the earth. Fear, 
gratitude, and curiosity, a dream or an 
omen, a singular disorder or a distant jour- 
ney, perpetually disposed him to multiply 
the articles of his belief, and to enlarge the 
list of his protectors. 

The thin texture of the Pagan mythology 
was interwoven with various, but not dis- 
cordant materials. As soon as it was al- 
lowed that sages and heroes, who had lived 
or who had died for the benefit of their 
country, were exalted to a state of power 
or immortality, it was universally confessed 
that they deserved, if not the adoration, at 
least the reverence of all mankind. The 
deities of a thousand groves and a thousand 
streams possessed, in peace, their local and 



respective influence ; nor could the Roman 
who deprecated the wrath of the Tiber de- 
ride the Egyptian who presented his offer- 
ing to the beneficent genius of the Nile. 
The visible powers of Nature, the planets, 
and the elements, were the same through- 
out the universe. The invisible governors 
of the moral world were inevitably cast in 
a similar mould of fiction and allegory. 
Every virtue, and even vice, acquired its 
divine representative ; every art and pro- 
fession its patron, whose attributes, in the 
most distant ages and countries, were uni- 
formly derived from the character of their 
peculiar votaries. A republic of gods of 
such opposite tempers and interests required, 
in every system, the moderating hand of a 
supreme magistrate, who, by the progress 
of knowledge and flattery, was gradually 
invested with the subUme perfections of an 
Eternal Parent and an Omnipotent Mon- 
arch. 

Such was the mild spirit of antiquity, that 
the nations were less attentive to the differ- 
ence, than to the resemblance of their re- 
ligious worship. The Greek, the Roman, 
and the Barbarian, as they met before their 
respective altars, easily persuaded them- 
selves that, under various names and with 
various ceremonies, they adored the same 
deities. The elegant mythology of Homer 
gave a beautiful, and almost a regular form 
to the polytheism of the ancient world." — 
Rom. Empire., Vol. /, pp. 165, 166. 

Humanity was the same then as now in 
its diversity, — but freedom had not asserted 
the high dignity and responsibility of indi- 
viduality. The masses thought with a 
common opinion, obeyed a general impulse, 
and looked upon mind as external to them- 
selves. 

" Individual vigor and manifold diversity," 
says Baron Humboldt, "combine them- 
selves in originality ; and hence, that on 
which the consummate grandeur of our na- 



8 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



believed, but of rites and ceremonies ; and its ritual is contained in the 
statistics and code of the empire. ^ What is asserted of these nations may 
be said in respect to the Zendavesta of Persia, and of the sacred teachings 
of all pagan countries, where governments claim a sacred origin, and where 
m^-steries control the religious affections of the people.^ 

But it is not so in Christian nations, where the Bible is free, and opened 
to all in their native language. The sublime injunction of Christ, to preach 
the gospel to the heathen of every land, has been more or less practised in 
almost ever}' age. From the earliest periods of the Clu'istian era to the 
present time, historj' has recorded numerous examples of extraordinary 
sacrifices to obej' the holy requisition.^ We have only to look at the charts 



ture ultimately depends, — that towards 
which every human being must ceaselessly 
direct his efforts, and on which especially 
those who design to influence their fellow- 
men must ever keep their eyes, is the In- 
dividuality of Power and Development.^' — 
Duties and Sphere of Government, p. 13. 

1 When a Chinese is asked how many 
systems of philosophic or religious belief 
exist in his country, he answers. Three — 
namely, Yu, the doctrine of Confucius ; Fa, 
or Budhism; and the sect of Taou, or "Ra- 
tionalists." Confucianism is the state religion 
of China. — Davis* China, Vol. II, p. 79. 

2 " History shows us," says Baron Hum- 
boldt, "that all States have thought fit to 
avail themselves of this source (religion) 
of influence, but with very different designs, 
and in very different degrees. In the an- 
cient nations it was perfectly interwoven 
with the political constitution, — it was in 
fact, a grand guiding principle and essential 
pillar of the State organism ; and hence all 
that I have observed of similar ancient 
institutions, applies no less aptly to religion. 
"When the Christian religion, instead of the 
earlier local deities of nations, taught men 
to believe in a universal God of humanity, 
thcreljy throwing down one of the most dan- 
gerous barriers which sundered the different 
tribes of the great human family from each 
other ; — and when it thus succeeded in 
laying the foundation for all true human 
virtue, human development and human union, 

without wliich, enlightenment and even 



science and learning would have long, and 
perhaps always, remained the rare property 
of a few; — it also directly operated to 
loosen the strong bond of connexion that 
of old existed between religion and the po- 
litical constitution. But when, afterward, 
the incursion of the barbarian tribes had 
scared enlightenment away ; — when a mis- 
conception of that very religion inspired a 
blind and intolerant rage for proselytism; 
and when, at the same time, the political 
form of States underwent such changes, 
that citizens were transferred into subjects, 
and these not so much the subjects of 
the State as of the person in whom the 
government was vested ; — the solicitude for 
religion, its preservation and extension, 
was left to the conscientiousness of princes 
who believed it confided to their hands by 
God himself. In our times this prejudice 
has, comparatively, ceased to prevail; but 
the promotion of religion by laws and State 
institutions has been no less urgently rec- 
ommended by considerations of internal 
security, and of morality, its strongest 
bulwark." — Duties and Sphere of Govern^ 
ment, pp. 72, 73. 

3 "When the idea formed of divinity is 
the fruit of true spiritual culture," says 
Baron Humboldt, " its intimate re-action on 
the inner perfection is at once beneficial 
and beautiful. All things assume a new 
form and meaning in our eyes when regard- 
ed as the creatures of fore-casting design, 
and not the capricious handiwork of unrea- 



RELIGION PROMOTED BY PARTIES. 



9 



of the various missionary institutions of modem times, to see that, however 
much the sects may differ among themselves, they all agree in the common 
duty of extending the great blessings of Christianity. ^ In the contempla- 
tion of the infinite theme of man*s religious nature and duties, it would be 
presumption to limit investigation, or to impose upon a single sect the labors 
which all sects are appointed to accomplish.^ The field is the world, and 



soning chance. The ideas of wisdom, order, 
and adaptive forethought, — ideas so neces- 
sary to the conduct of our own actions, and 
even to the culture of the intellect, strike 
deeper root into our susceptible nature, 
when we discover them everywhere around 
us. The finite becomes as it were infinite ; 
the perishable, enduring; the fleeting, sta- 
ble ; the complex, simple ; — when we con- 
template one great regulating cause on the 
summit of things, and regard what is spirit- 
ual as endlessly enduring. Our search 
after truth, our striving after perfection, 
gain greater certainty and consistency when 
we can believe in the existence of a Being 
who is at once the source of all truth, and 
the sum of all perfection." — Duties and 
Sphere of Government, pp. 76, 77. 

1 Number of American Missionary So- 
cieties, (Protestant), — 17; No. Missiona- 
ries, 435 ; Male Assistants, 28 ; Female 
Helpers, 479 ; Ordained native Preachers, 
223 ; Unordained native Preachers and Cat- 
echists, 722; Other native Helpers, 1,352; 
Members of Churches, 59,062 ; Pupils in 
Schools, 40,629 ; Income, $1,570,245. 

Number of European Societies, (Prot- 
estant), — 41; No. of Missionaries, 1,638; 
Male Assistants, 208; Female Helpers, 
1,788; Ordained native Preachers, 339; 
Unordained native Preachers and Catechists, 
2,668; Other native Helpers, 6,392; Mem- 
bers of Churches, 242,020; Pupils in 
Schools, 248,836. Income, about £1,123,- 
871. We have no means of knowing the 
number of Catholic Missionaries, but it 
must be very great. 

American Bible Society, instituted 
in 1816, and has 2,147 Auxiliaries. Num- 
ber of Bible Societies in the world, estab- 



lished from 1804-1871, 84. Total number 
of Bibles and Testaments distributed by all 
from 1804-1871, 105,000,000. Of these 
213 Languages or Dialects, the translation, 
printing or distribution of the Scriptures, in 
whole or in part, has been promoted by the 
British and Foreign Bible Society. 37,000 
Bibles have been distributed in China. Di- 
rectly, in 146 Languages or Dialects ; Indi- 
rectly, 47 Languages or Dialects. Total, 193. 

The number of Versions (omitting those 
which are printed in diflerent characters 
only) is 252. Of these 205 are versions 
prepared since the year 1804. Receipts of 
Am. Bib. Soc. to 1871, $14,128,286.70. 

2 The statistics of religion for the United 
States, just completed at the Census Office, 
show the total number of church organiza- 
tions on the first of June, 1870, to have 
been 72,451 ; total number of church edifi- 
ces, 63,074; total church accommodation, 
21,659,562, and the aggregate value of 
church property, $354,429,581. The statis- 
tics of church accommodation for the prin- 
cipal denominations are as follows : Baptist, 
regular, 3,997,116; Baptist, other than reg- 
ular, 363,019; Roman Catholic, 1,990,514; 
Congregational, 1,117,212; Episcopal, 991,- 
051; Lutheran, 997,332 ; Methodist, 6,528,- 
209; Presbyterian, regular, 2,198,900; 
Presbyterian, other than regular, 499,344; 
value of the church property owned by these 
denominations is : Baptist, regular, $39, 229,- 
221; Baptist, other than regular, $2,378,- 
977; Roman Catholic, $60,985,566; Con- 
gregational, $25,069,698; Episcopal, $36,- 
514,549; Lutheran, $14,917,747; Methodist, 
$69,854,121; Presbyterian, regular, $47,- 
828,732; Presbyterian, other than regular, 
$5,436,524. 



10 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

each sect represents but a single laborer, appointed to do a special work in 
the great cause of humanit}^ So vast a subject, of such infinite relations, 
may well command the holy zeal and activity of a thousand parties, and 
each to render service alike important, though unlike that of others. The 
fountain of eternal truth is inexhaustible, and its waters will gush forth to 
slake the thii'st of every people, approaching the living stream, from every 
clime. 



SCIENCE ADVANCED BY PARTIES. 

To the concentrated powers of party may be traced many of the most 
important advancements of science. In all ages of ignorance, the possession 
of genius has been viewed either as a supernatural gift, and classed with the 
mysteries of superstition, or as treason to the state. The jealousy of 
unenlightened power burns with an unquenchable intensity. It crushes all 
that it cannot control. It strikes down what it cannot understand. It is 
blinded b}^ new lights, and dismayed by the increase of knowledge. It has 
no conception of life, except in the means of death ; no confidence in truth 
beyond the fetters and cells of a loathsome prison. It perjured the soul of 
Copernicus,^ administered hemlock to Socrates,^ shed the blood of Seneca,^ 
paral3^zed the tongue of Galileo,^ and banished Aristotle.^ 

In the absence of despotism, where the will of the people is subjected to the 
control of ignorance and superstition, — where tradition and zeal unite the 
passions, and give to prejudice the high prerogatives of judgment, — men of 

1 Copernicus, the astronomer, lived in the * Galileo was twice brought before the 
beginning of the 16th century. His system Inquisition. The first time, a council of 
was looked upon as a most dangerous here- seven cardinals pronounced a sentence, 
sy. " That to maintain the sun to be immovable, 

2 Socrates, a native of Athens, was pro- and without local motion, in the centre of 
nounced by the oracle at Delphi the wisest the world, is an absurd proposition, — false 
of mankind. He was accused of corrupting in philosophy, heretical in religion, and 
the Athenian youth, of making innovations contrary to the testimony of Scripture, 
in the religion of the Greeks, and was sum- That it is equally absurd and false in phi- 
moned before the tribunal of the five bun- losophy to assert that the earth is not im- 
dred. He was condemned by a majority movable in the centre of the world; and, 
of three voices, to drink hemlock. He died considered theologically, equally erroneous 
400 years B. C, in the 70th year af his age. and heretical." Under a threat of impris- 

* Seneca, the philosopher, was the early onment, he retracted his opinions ; but he 

preceptor of Nero. He was mentioned as could not suppress the truth. In 1616, and 

being concerned in the conspiracy of Piso, 1633, he was brought before the Inquisition, 

when Nero was emperor, and he was or- and forced solemnly to disavow his own 

dered to choose the means and destroy him- convictions. He died in 1639. 

self. He bled himself to death. 5 Although the accusations against Aris- 



SCIENCE ADVANCED BY PARTIES. 



11 



science have been made the victims of relentiess opposition and malignant 
speculations. Harvey ^ lost his living ; Jenner^ was a blasphemer ; PascaF 
was a heretic ; Acosta,'* an atheist ; Dr. Faustus, a co-partner of Satan ; 
Fulton was the subject of ridicule ; and all anatomists who engaged in the 
business of dissection were denounced as guilty of sacrilege.^ Even as late 
as the year 1598, Daniel Hoffman, Professor of Divinity of the University' 
of Helmstadt, maintained that philosoph}' was the mortal enem^' of religion ; 
that truth was divisible into two branches, — the one philosophical, the other 
Uieological ; and that what was true in philosophy was /a/se in theolog}'. 

All s^^stems of philosophy denounced as erroneous or heretical, true or 
unsafe, immediatel}' become subjects of attention among the people, and of 
earnest thought and discussion among thinking men and professors. Fired 
b}' pride and ambition, or impelled by blind devotion to time-honored theo- 



totle were frivolous, yet he was condemned, 
and only escaped punishment by a volunta- 
ry banishment. "I am not willing," said 
he, "to give the Athenians an occasion of 
being guilty of injustice a second time 
against philosophy," — alluding, doubtless, 
to the case of Socrates. 

1 In 1619, William Harvey, an English 
physician, published his important work on 
the circulation of the blood. It was power- 
fully opposed, for some time ; but Harvey 
lived to see his doctrine fully established. 
The people, however, were so prejudiced 
against his theory, that they refused to em- 
ploy him as a physician. 

2 Dr. Jenner made the first experiment in 
vaccination, by transferring the pus from 
the pustule of a milk-maid, who had caught 
the cow-pox from the cows, to a healthy 
child, in May, 1796. He published the 
result in 1799. In 1802, the British Parli- 
ament voted £10,000 to Dr. Jenner, for the 
discovery. Although regarded by many as 
an impious attempt to oppose the decrees 
of Divine Providence, vaccination was 
practised throughout all Europe prior to 
1816. 

8 Pascal was attacked by Father Noel, the 
Rector of the Jesuits' College, at Paris, on 
account of his pneumatic experiments, as 
if guilty of a very alarming heresy. This 
was in 1647. 



4 Acosta, the celebrated Spanish author, 
was the first philosopher who endeavored to 
account for the difierent degrees of heat in 
the old and new continents by the agency 
of the winds which blow In each, — a 
theory which was afterward adopted by 
Buffon. In the course of these discus- 
sions, Acosta frequently comments upon 
the opinion of Aristotle, and other ancient 
philosophers, that the middle zone of the 
earth was so much scorched by the rays of 
the sun as to be destitute of moisture, and 
totally uninhabitable. This notion seems to 
have held its ground in the schools even 
after the discovery of South America had 
disclosed the magnificent scenery and stu- 
pendous rivers of the tropical regions. It 
appears to have been thought a sort of im- 
piety to question a dogma of such ancient 
date, and sanctioned by the assent of all the 
school divines. The exposing of this an- 
cient error in geography was one of the 
circumstances which brought upon Sir Wal- 
ter Raleigh the charge of general scepti- 
cism and atheism. 

^ The dissection of dead bodies was, at 
no very late period, looked on as sacrilege ; 
and the Emperor Charles Y. ordered a 
consultation of the theologians of Salaman- 
ca, to determine whether, in point of con- 
science, a body might be dissected in order 
to obtain a knowledge of its structure. 



12 HISTORY OP DEMOCRACY. 

ries, the disputants proclaim their positions, and commence the war of con^ 
trovers3\ The lines of party are drawn, with a brilliant display of spirit 
engendered b}' the contest, and each division has its champions and 
followers. 

In whatever degree the controversj^ becomes marked hj reason or intelli- 
gence, b}' superstitious bigotry or ignorance, it assumes the character of a 
scientific investigation, or falls to the level of a bitter conflict of passion and 
incoherent declamation of opinions. Struggles for victory are always in 
proportion to the means employed, compared with the power to be opposed. 
The spirit of truth is clothed with the invincible powers of conscience and 
knowledge. Weakness in numbers is supplied b}' irrepressible resolution, 
ignorant men become violent, and fanatics desperate ; and, as ultimate vic- 
tory is ever on the side of truth, the result conforms to the immutable laws 
of Providence. Adaptation of natural means to legitimate ends, of efficient 
remedies to existing evils, is a fundamental law of God. 

As in the physical world it requires a brilliant light to dispel a midnight 
darkness, — so, in the moral, it requires the intellect of a Bacon to assert the 
dignity of learning, the patriotism of Washington to triumph in the great 
cause of freedom, and the divine attributes of Christ to lift up and cheer a 
sinful world. The condition of want and the corresponding necessity of 
means constitute the measure of the work to be accomplished. 

To meet with opposition in the prosecution of a good cause, to be perse- 
cuted for devotion to God or duty, to be denounced or banished for patriot- 
ism, or a fearless declaration of truth, — quickens all the energies of the 
soul, ennobles its aims, enlarges the resources of moral strength, and 
advances an ordinary courage to a holy and unconquerable resolution. Men 
speak their convictions with a livelier interest and stronger hope ; they 
enlist others to join their strength and enthusiasm ; they perfect their 
knowledge, they master their subject, they improve their means of persua- 
sion, from a passionate sense of duty, and a deep concern for those who still 
mysteriously claim it as a privilege to be left in a state of mental destitu- 
tion. 

Turning to the great departments of law^ and medicine,^ we there find 
that reforms are chiefly made by the spirit of party. A desire for improve- 
ment is the natural spirit of an active mind ; but this is opposed by the 



1 A very able article upon the abstract been very numerous. The dogmatic, em- 
and historical schools, from the pen of piric, methodic, eclectic, pneumatic, me- 
Legare, may be found in the New York chanic, dynamic, &c. , &c. , to say nothing of 
Keview, Vol. V, p. 280. those of modern times, chiefly classed as 

2 The Medical Schools, or sects, have Allopathic and Homoeopathic. 



PABTY ACTIOK, AND ITS IMPORTANCE. 13 

* 

lovers of rest from labor, and by those who claim an exemption from the 
responsibility of doubting theories of the past.i 

The rivalry of genius in the study of the fine arts is another element of 
nature akin to party spirit. Each of the great masters has his own st3'le of 
composition, or beauty, — and each has his followers, throughout the civil- 
ized world. 

It is only necessary to read the history of such men as Donatello, Eoubill- 
iac, Michael Angelo, Rubens, Peter Mignard, Le Brun, Mozart, Rossini, 
Beethoven, Gluck, Haydn, Handel, and other celebrated sculptors, painters 
and composers of music, to be convinced of the great influence exerted by 
the spirit of emulation among artists. 



PARTY ACTION, AND ITS IMPORTANCE. 

However much the analysis of human motives may be varied, and how- 
ever thej" may be combined with the passions, and traced to their ultimate 
results in action, the greatest activity will invariably be found springing 
from considerations and feelings linked with the opinions or labors of others. 
There is but little excitement within ourselves. "We are made for society. 
The idea of an isolated abstraction of personality would be an incompre- 
hensible proposition. We cannot think of ourselves, and, at the same 
time, exclude all thought of others. 

All thoughts, acts and language, indicate an actual mutuality, relationship 
or antagonism. Men live to agree, to oppose, or to compete. The}^ may be 
actuated by the debasing motives of rebellion to the rule of right, or lifted 
up by elevating aspirations after surpassing excellence. The}" have their 
preferences, jealousies, prejudices and antipathies. 

As men combine for intellectual action, there is an accumulative aijofreo-ate 
of passions which give an element to a mass, which cannot be discovered in 
the individual. As the snow-flake is to the avalanche, or the drop to the 

1 The expeditions of discovery made by rank ; and the indolent and splenetic argued 
Prince Henry, son of John, King of Portu- that it was presumption to search for a pas- 
gal, excited the inyeterate prejudices of his sage to the southern extremity of Africa, 
countrymen. The systematic philosophers which the wisest geographers had pro- 
were alarmed lest their favorite theories nounced to be impracticable. It was even 
should be perverted by the acquisition of hinted, as a probable consequence, that the 
real knowledge. The military beheld with mariners, after passing certain latitude, 
impatience the increase of fame that was would be changed into blacks, and thus ro- 
obtained by a profession they had always tain forever a disgraceful mark of their 
considered as inferior to their own ; the no- temerity. — Clark's Progress of Maritime 
bility dreaded opening a source of wealth Discovery, 
which might equalize the ascendency of 



14 HISTORY OF DEMOCEACY. 

upheayings of the mighty ocean, so is man to the multitude, combined by 
the sj-mpathies of motive and interest. ^ The passions constitute the moving 
energies of the soul. The}^ are life to mind, and activitj^ to purpose. They 
impart energy to thought. What air, fire and water, are to machinery, the 
l^assions are to intellect. Their mission is a high and mighty one, though 
their perversions are terrible. The excess of each is fearfully added to the 
excess of all. Look to the extravagant pleasures of the imagination, the 
bright promises of hope, the joyous throngs of sentiment, which cluster and 
cling to every new-born thought, whatever cause it comes to help ; the pure 
and unaffected grace of conscience, the glowing love and uncompromising 
spirit of truth and justice, the lightning zeal of patriotism, — all conspire 
to move a people in the achievement of a common good, with irresistible 
impetuosity. 

Then, turn to the opposite extreme, where tj^anny rules and liberty weeps 
in chains ; where misnamed justice is but the beast in robes, and religion 
wears a crown of thorns ; where truth is heres}", and love is treason ; where 
hate is joined to malice, cruelty to fear, and outrage to force, — there is 
found an array of elements more fearful than the throes of earth, or the 
upliftings of the sea. 

Such are the mighty forces of party. Mind opposed to mind, passion to 
passion, zeal to zeal, and force to force. It is the war of life against death, 
truth against error, virtue against vice, love against sin, and of patriotism 
in the defence and extension of freedom and equal rights. To disclaim its 
necessity is a perversion of knowledge, and to deny its power a confession of 
ignorance. Like all other great instruments of good, party spirit commits 
its ignoble deeds, and in its excessive sway often tramples down the flowers 
which grow in the battle-field. Like the tornado, it sometimes leaves deso- 
lation in its track, and the joys of social or domestic life are withered by its 
blighting breath. But great powers are the instruments of great events. 

1 This community of feeling may be re- hare tended to mark a distinct and percept- 
garded as the special and extraordinary ible line between the practicable and im- 
workings of the mind in common. All the practicable objects of industry; oftentimes 
great interests of society have been, at dif- promoting the public good at the expense 
ferent periods, the subjects of it. Society of individual folly, sacrifice and extrava- 
and nations have been advanced by revolu- gance. These bubbles were so numerous 
tions, the crusades and chivalry; the sci- in the time of Geo. I. (1720) that the in- 
ences, by the superstitions of astrology and terference of Parliament became necessary ; 
the wild dreams of alchemists and the thou- and the king published a proclamation de- 
sands of speculations, which were sig- daring them to be " unlawful and common 
nificantly termed, in the early part of the nuisances," and five hundred pounds was 
eighteenth century, ''bubbles" and which made the penalty for buying or selling a 

share in any of them. — Pari. Deb. Vol. 

*' Turned nothing into all things," YU p. 654. 



PARTY ACTION, AND ITS IMPORTANCE. 



15 



They are fitted to remove great evils, or to accomplish immeasurable good. 
They belong to humanity, destined to infinite progression, and not to the 
ephemeral period of individual existence. They may, indeed, disturb the 
hour, but bless the generation ; or they may break the circle, yet save the 
nation. 1 

If the value of blessings were measured according to the degrees of their 
abuse, or susceptibility to danger in the misapplication of principles, we 
should soon arrive at the startling conclusion, that power does not belong to 
the condition of man, and that all action is but another term for danger. 
Such views come from an imperfect moral vision. They are the ofi'spring of 
ill-balanced or debilitated minds. They are false to the true dignity of man. 
They mistrust his nature, his destiny, and the reign of his Gf eator. They 
indicate a slothful selfishness, which would reduce the plans of infinite wis- 
dom to the insignificant sphere of individual timidity, or sickly passiveness. 

Thus a general survey has been taken of the principles involved in the 
subject of this work. This course seemed to be particularly necessar}^, inas- 
much as there are many men, of unexceptionable character, who do not 
appear fully to appreciate the necessity, as well as the great importance, of 
party. 2 Some, indeed, claim distinction for a stoic indifi'erence to public 



1 Washington, in his Farewell Address, 
in speaking of party spirit, says it "is in- 
separable from our nature, having its root 
in the strongest passions of the human 
mind. It exists under different shapes in 
all governments, more or less stifled, con- 
trolled or repressed; but in those of the 
popular form it is seen in its greatest rank- 
ness, and is truly their worst enemy." — 
Sparks^s Washington, Vol. XII, p. 224. 
He condemned the excesses of party spirit, 
but admitted the necessity of party. — See 
his Letter to Hamilton, ib. Vol. I, p. 476. 

Franklin came to the conclusion, as early 
as in 1731, " That the great affairs of the 
world, the wars and revolutions, are carried 
on and effected by parties ; " and he pro- 
posed to organize a new party, to be called 
the " United Party for Virtue." — Sparks's 
Franklin, Vol. I, p. 118. 

Madison says, " An extinction of parties 
necessarily implies either a universal alarm 
for the public safety, or an absolute extinc- 
tion of Uhenj." — Federalist, p. 323. 



2 Lord Chatham, in his earlier days, de- 
claimed against party distinctions, and 
refused to be known as a member of either 
party; but, as he increased in experience, 
he reversed this opinion. As he saw more 
clearly the practical working of the consti- 
tution, he became convinced of the necessi- 
ty of party connections in a free country; 
and, during the latter years of his life, he 
was frequent and energetic in his declara- 
tions that he was a democrat. In a debate 
in the House of Lords, on the seizure of 
Falkland's Island, 1770, Lord Chatham 
closed an eloquent speech in the following 
language: "I know I shall be accused 
of attempting to revive distinctions. — My 
Lords, if it were possible, I would abolish 
all distinctions. I would not wish the favors 
of the crown to flow invariably in one chan- 
nel. But there are some distinctions which 
are inherent in the nature of things. There 
is a distinction between right and wrong — 
between "Whig and Toky." — Chat. Cor.., 
Vol. IV, p. 17. 



16 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

affairs, and an honorable name for the negative virtue of neutrality.^ Such 
views ma}' be in harmony with the hermit's remorse, or with the Timons of 
Athens, who 

"Hate all, curse all;" 

but they dishonor the man who claims to be a citizen, and loves the service 
of his country. Some labor hard to acquire knowledge, but never use it. 
The}' are influenced by opinions, and oftener b}' prejudices. Some study the 
mind, and the nature of society, — as if the}' neither possessed the one nor 
belonged to the other. They affect a useless independence, as if they wanted 
nothing and never would be wanted. He who affects to despise the world 
and its appointments disparages himself and boasts of his own folly. Magna 
est Veritas et proevalehit — is a party maxim that asserts the highest aim 
and assures the noblest end. As truth pervades time and eternity, and 
inheres in all that moves in space, and lies hidden in the countless circum- 
stances and conditions of life, and in the thoughts and emotions of the soul 
as connected with holiness and dut}', progress and happiness, — its pursuit 
will ever command the utmost energies of mind, and never exhaust the 
unfathomable depths of mental ingenuity, the mysteries of faith, nor the 
competing trials of party. 

Viewed with a careful judgment, the subject is a most sacred one. Clearly 
to understand the rights of men and the legitimate means of their defence ; 
to guard against culpable neglect, or stolid indifference, in respect to matters 
of public concern ; to resist the encroachments or abuses of power, are the 
incumbent duties of all who are capable of appreciating the true dignity of 
principle, and claim an exemption from the conditions of slavery.^ The true 
bearings of the subject, in its diversified relations, cannot be well understood, 
without some degree of attention to fundamental principles. We have only 

^ Or, as Hume significantly terms it, an public danger. The following lines are 

"indolent acquiescence in received opin- taken from a poem, entitled "The Art of 

ions." Dr. Paloy says that, " in political. Politicks," published in 1729 : 
above all other subjects, the arguments, or 

rather the conjectures, on each side of a "The middle way the best we sometimes call, 

question, are often so equally poised, that But it is in Politicks no way at all. 

. , , , , -, . A Trimmer's what both parties turn to sport, 

the Wisest judgments may be held m sus- „ .,., jj -j. 

"^ ° "^ By country hated, and despised at court." 

pense." These he calls '■'■subjects of indif- 
ference" which means, if anything, a neu- 2 jx is one of the advantages of free gov- 
trality characterized by apathy. "To call ernments, says Sir James Mackintosh, that 
anything indifferent in religion," says an they excite, sometimes to an inconvenient 
able writer, "is to own that it has nothing degree, but, upon the whole, with the ut- 
to do with religion." Among the laws of So- most benefit, all the generous feelings, all 
Ion there was one rendering all those infa- the efforts for a public cause, of which hu- 
mous who attempted neutrality in times of man nature is capable. 



THE TORY PARTY. 17 

glanced at the vast frame-work of the moral edifice of the Creator, as con- 
nected with these inqumes ; and have briefl}' attempted to point out the 
rudiments of the great subject, so that readers may be persuaded to pursue 
the study for themselves, and do something to develop the momentous 
theme. 

It is not the object of this work to encourage the love of part}', to the 
neglect of other duties. Such a view involves the obvious absurdity- of 
counting the part as greater than the whole. Its purpose is rather to claim 
for party, in the wide range of human agency, that consideration to which it 
is justl}' entitled, b}' its great importance. 

Inquiries will now be directed with more special reference to the object of 
this work — the history of Democracy. And j^et it remains to be stated in 
what sense it is intended to emplo}' a term which so long has been used to 
designate a particular kind of government, or the gi-eat part}' liberally repre- 
senting the wishes and the interests of the people. As the same part}- has 
been known by man}- different names in different ages, and as part}' names 
seldom indicate principles, we shall adopt the designations acknowledged by 
the two gi'eat political parties of England, the Democratic and the Tory ; 
and endeavor to show that, though each may var}- in the externals of di-ess, 
and exhaust the vocabulary of names, it has always been, and still is, rela- 
tively and fundamentall}' the same. 



THE TORY PARTY. 
The ToRY'i Party, represents the conservative principle, as identified with 

1 This party name, " Tory," is derived even with their enemies, who were closely 

from " toringhim" to pursue for the sake united with the Scots, called them ivliigs, 

of plunder. — O'Connor, Bib. Stowensis, a name of reproach used in Scotland." — 

Vol. II, p. 460. DisseH. on Rise, Progress, Views, <J-c., of 

The adherents of Charles the First were the Whigs and Tories. Pamphlet, 1773, 

called cavaliers, and their opponents round- p. IG. 

heads. In the time of Charles the Second, The democratic party of England is still 

the former were denominated tories, and termed the whig party. There is no good 

the latter ivhigs. "The origin of these reason why a term of reproach should be 

distinctions is this : At that time a sort of substituted for a legitimate word significant 

L-ish bayiditti, or robbers, who kept in the of principle. When this term was thrown 

moimtains and isles formed by the vast off by the democrats of America, with a 

bogs of that country, were called tories, and view to return to their proper designation, 

Avero known by the name of rapparees. As their opponents assumed the title. It had 

the king's enemies accused him of favoring a democratic origin and reputation, and the 

the Irish rebellion, which broke out about advanced Tory Party of the United States 

that time, they gave his adherents the name became clothed in the antiquated garb of 

oi tories. These, on the other hand, to be democracy. When- alluding, therefore, to 
2 



18 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

fli'bitrary power. Arbitrar}^ power anticipates the rule of Providence, and 
in its assumptions, attempts to foresee and predict the will of God, and to 
control the will of man. What the centripetal force is to the planet, this 
principle is to the soul. The party prescribes to itself a narrow circle, and 
centralizes its objects. It assumes to be the conservator of light, and claims 
the prerogative of standing between the great source of its ra3's and the vast 
multitudes of men upon whom the^^ were made to shine. It holds back, 
withdraws and turns back, in its polic3\ It is timid, doubting and selfish. 
It claims rule in proportion to its knowledge, forgetting that it is blinded 
by its possession of wealth, and deceived b}' its inordinate love of power. 
*'It begs the whole question in dispute." ^ Practicall}' it believes that man 
was made for government, and not government for man. Its adherents 
have but a faint conception of a community of interests, or of the universal- 
it}^ of progress. In their hearts they have a record of brass for eveiy error 
and excess of liberty', but on their tongues is a sponge to blot out the foulest 
crimes and blackest treacheries of despotism.^ When in power, they stop 
the great wheels of advancement, as if they were the legatees of a deceased 

the whigs of England, we shall designate ue to represent party principles, when, as 

them as democrats, standing, as they do, in Mr. Jefferson said fifty years ago, "aZZ are 

the same relation to the tory party of Eng- federalists." It implied a false distinction, 

land as the democrats of America stand to and was misused by the aristocracy, 

their opponents. In the United States, as uj^^om the time of the adoption of the 

in all countries, there are two leading ^^^^^^^ constitution, in 1788," says Judge 

parties; the Democratic and the Tory. Hammond,.^' till about the time of the elec- 

In speaking of party names in the United ^^^^^ ^f ^^^^ Jackson, in 1828, the party 

States, in an address delivered in 1842, John apposed to the federalists was known as the 

Quincy Adams says: "The struggle was repubhcan party. For a long time the 

long and acrimonious for the name of re- ^^^^^ democrat, or democratic, was used as 

publicans, assumed by both parties, but ^ ^^^^ ^f reproach. The^publicans were 

claimed as exclusive by one of them; and ^^ ^^^ federalists calleMe^ocrats, as sy- 

when Mr. Jefferson had settled that all ^onymous with the ^y or t Jacobin, And, 

were republicans, his own party, dissatisfied .^^^^^^ -^ ^^^ intended to convey the idea 

with the decision, cast off the appellation for ^^^^ ^^^ republican party, in principle and 

vrhich they had so steadily contended, and ^^^^^:^^^^ ^^s nearly allied to the Jacobinic 

called themselves democrats." ^^^^^ J^ France. On the other hand, the 

''Were I permitted," continues Mr. republicans, with a view to cast odium on 

Adams, "to select a name for the party to ^^^^.^ opponents, called the federalists aris- 

which I should wish to belong, it would be i^^^^^,,, _ Hammond's Political Hist, of 

that of constitutionahst." This might do in ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^j_ ^ ^ ggg_ 



a country where a monarchy refused a 
constitution; but in the United States, 
where all are in favor of one, the term 



1 Sir James Mackintosh, Speech on Re- 
form Bill, Works, Vol. Ill, p. 558. 



would indicate union, rather than party. ^ Sheridan's reply to Burke, Pari. Deb., 

The term ''federalist" could not contin- Vol. XXX, p. 395. 



THE TOKY PAETY. 19 

nation, instead of being the agents to do the business of its government for 
the future good of the people. The part}' is professedly and confidently 
paternal in its measures, but it admits of no limit to the period of minorit}-. 
It seeks to exert a perpetual guardianship, that the people may be cared for, 
but not trusted. It becomes exhausted by its sole reliance on the resources 
of its artificial and constructive policy, and divided on questions of expe- 
diency as to means for continuing or re-establishing its strength or ascen- 
denc3\ The element of rivalr}^ exerts a greater power than its love of har- 
mon}' for the common good. It is not only false to principle, but faithless to 
its own men. They are sacrificed to secure a trifling expedient of temporary 
polic}', and present availabilit}^ in retaining power is prized above a future 
permanent good. 

No man understood the character of the Tory, or described him with more 
accurac3',than Addison, in the time of Geo. I. He sa3'S, " His political faith 
is altogether founded on hope. He does not give credit to an3i;hing because 
it is probable, but because it is pleasing. His wishes serve him instead 
of reasons, to confirm the truth of what he hears. There is no report so 
incredible or contradictory in itself which he doth not cheerfull}- believe, if 
it tends to the advancement of the cause. In short, a malecontent,i who is 
a good believer, has generally reason to repeat the celebrated rant of an 
ancient father, Cj'edo quia impossibile est : which is as much as to say. It 
must be true, because it is impossible. 

" It has been well observed, that the most credulous man in the world is 
the atheist, who believes the universe to be the production of chance. In 
the same manner, a Tor}-, who is the greatest believer in what is improbable, 
is the greatest infidel in what is certain. Let a friend to the government^ 
relate to him a matter of fact, he turns away his ear from him, and gives 
him the lie in every look. But if one of his own stamp should tell him that 
the King of Sweden would be suddenly at Perth, and that his army is now 
actually marching thither upon the ice ; he hugs himself at the good news, 
and gets drunk upon it before he goes to bed. This sort of people puts one 
in mind of several towns in Europe that are inaccessible on the one side 
while they lie open, unguarded on the other." ^ 

If it may be permitted to use the expression, without offence, the back of 
the party is ever turned upon the present and the future. The party dwells 
on the events of the past ; and is so intently fixed in its gaze upon what has 
been, with a view to the mere reproduction of measures of former times, and 
without much consideration of the change of circumstances, that it forgets 

lAtoiy. See Esther, Xni, 4, 5. ^Freeholder, No. 14. See the Toby's 

2 The whig party was in power when this Creed— as given by Addison— Appendix A. 
was written. 



20 HISTORY OF DEMOCHACY. 

to move onward, or to leave the track of power, until crushed by the party 
engines of their opponents. It has more reverence for the past acts of men 
than confidence in the government of God vested in the instincts and expe- 
rience of the people. 1 

The mission of the part}' is not to be denied because we do not jield to 
its claims, or concede to it the honor of the first position, as to importance, 
in the advancement of the great interests of humanity. Facts are simply 
stated, too well authenticated to be doubted b}' an}- considerate man who is 
conversant wdth the teachings of histor}'.^ This negative principle is not 
peculiar to political organization. It pervades, as has been seen, all the 
departments of human knowledge, and is ever known b}' its uniform hostility 
to most of the new movements of science and of national progress. If it 

EVER SUCCEEDS IN THE ADMINISTRATION OF GOVERNMENT, IT IS BECAUSE IT 
DEPARTS FROM ITS OWN PRINCIPLES. 

Although the party is not characterized b}^ the active elements of progress, 
all will admit that it serves as a stimulant to increased exertions on the part 
of its opponents, and to greater thoroughness in the attainments of science. 
It helps to gain what most it dreads.^ A large portion of its members doubt- 
less act from high considerations of duty, and are seized with conscientious 
amazement at failures which they cannot comprehend ; and we should regret 
to have our remarks, which are applicable only to constitutional powers and 
acquired habits of discernment, misapplied to the motives of men. It may 
be permitted to doubt a man's judgment, and to mistrust his ability to serve 

1 Pulteney (in the time of Geo. II,) was If the tories are misrepresented by any of 
of the opinion ' ' that the trunk of the tree the language here employed to define their 
in the government should be formed of dem- position, the error may find a sufiicient ex- 
ocrats, but the tories might be inoculated planation in the language of Burke. 

or ingrafted upon it" ^- Pari. Deo., Vol. ^ The principle of conservatism has a de- 

XII, p. 531. fence in the laws of growth. The holding 

2 When Lord, North complained of the back of reform sometimes gives strength 
misrepresentations of the opposition, he was and maturity which can come in no other 
thus answered by Burke : " He says, that his way so well. On this ground it was that 
words have been misrepresented, and his Fox, in alluding to the defeat of the minis- 
meaning perverted : and I am inclined to be- ters who attempted to crush the American 
lieve that, if any meaning at all has been im- colonies, made the remark " that though he 
puted to him, the first part of the charge may could not thank God for the many calami- 
be true. His own words have no meaning, ties which had overtaken the unhappy land 
and, therefore, tlieir meaning cannot be in consequence of the fatal system by which 
perverted. If words have been imputed to the king and people had been deluded, still 
liim tliat liave a meaning, he has certainly he considered it as beneficial that the tri- 
suffercd wrong, and I hope that gentlemen umph (of the democratic party) had not 
will for tlie future be more cautious how been sooner." — Pari. Deh., Vol. xxii, p. 
tliey commit such offences against ministers 1097. 

of state." — PaW. Deh., Vol. XVI, p. 720. 



THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY. 



21 



the public, and to speak of him as a weak and dangerous agent, — as Col. 
Barre, in the British Parliament, spoke of the conduct of Lord North, in 
his ministerial capacity, as being "most indecent and scandalous," ^ — while 
it would be far from the design of any one to impeach his personal integrity, 
or to question the purity of his private character. 



THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY. 
The Democratic Party^ represents the great principle of progress. It 



1 This language was highly resented by- 
Lord North. He characterized Col. Barre 
as "brutal and insolent," and a great up- 
roar in Parliament was the consequence. 
He was called to order by the speaker and 
the opposition, and Avas required to make an 
apology. He made two attempts before he 
succeeded to the satisfaction of Parliament. 
He finally confessed that " it was a wonder 
he should ever lose his temper, considering 
how often he was obliged to hear hard words 
applied to him personally." "Col. Barre," 
said Mr. Townshend, " had attacked the 
minister on public grounds, and in a war- 
rantable parliamentary manner; yet the 
minister, a servant of the public and servant 
of that house, had dared to call an honora- 
ble member of that house ' insolent and hru- 
tal\ for speaking what he and every other 
member had a right to say to any one of the 
king's ministers." 

Col. Barre expressed great respect for the 
noble lord as a private gentleman, but claimed 
a wide distinction between the courtesies of 
private life and the high responsibilities of a 
public position. — Farl. Deb., Vol. xxii, p. 
1048— (1782). 

In speaking of the younger Pitt (1782), 
Mr. Pox makes the same distinction. He 
reprehended Mr. Pitt for resting the sincer- 
ity of a ministerial declaration on the purity 
of his own private character. " Such con- 
duct," said Mr. Fox, "was by no means 
parliamentary ; nor could it in this instance 
have much weight. His private character 
had no reproach ; but his character was to be 
tried. As a minister, he had no character. " 
— Pari. Deb., Vol. xxiii,p. 276. 



* Democracy is compounded of two Greek 
words, — " Demos," people, and " Kratos," 
government : The government of the peo- 
ple. It comprehends in principle all that 
can be demanded for the good of the people. 
It is a name that can neither be surrendered 
nor altered. 

" Such is the power of the word Democ- 
racy," says Guizot, " that no government 
or party dares to raise its head, or believes 
its own existence possible, if it does not bear 
that word inscribed on its banner ; and those 
who carry that banner aloft with the greatest 
ostentation and to the extremest limits, be- 
lieve themselves to be stronger than all the 
rest of the world. 

" This is now (1848) the sovereign and 
universal word which all parties invoke, all 
seek to appropriate as a talisman. 

" The Monarchists say, ' Our Monarchy is 
a Democratic Monarchy : therefore it differs 
essentially from the ancient monarchy, and 
is adapted to the modern condition of socie- 

ty.' 

" The Republicans say, ' The Republic 
is Democracy governing itself. This is the 
only form of government in liarmony with a 
democratic society, its principles, its senti- 
ments and its interests.' 

" Socialists, Communists and Montagnards 
require that the republic should be a pure 
and absolute democracy. This, in their es- 
timation, is the condition of their legitimacy." 

If such be the conceded power of the word, 
by its opponents, what must have been the 
power of democratic principles to justify the 
concession. Those who claim the name, and 



22 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



is onward and outward in its movements. It has a heart for action, and 
motives for a world. It constitutes the principle of diffusion, and is to 
humanit}' what the centrifugal force is to the revolving orbs of a universe. 
What motion is to them. Democracy is to principle. It is the soul in action. 
It conforms to the providence of God. It has confidence in man, and an 
abiding reliance in his high destiny. It seeks the largest liberty, the great- 
est good, and the surest happiness. It aims to build up the great interests 
of the man3^, to the least detriment of the few. It remembers the past, 
without neglecting the present. It establishes the present, without fearing 
to provide for the future. ^ It cares for the weak, while it permits no injus- 
tice to the strong. It conquers the oppressor, and prepares the subjects of 
tjTanny for freedom.^ It melts the bigot's heart to meekness, and reconciles 
his mind to knowledge. It dispels the clouds of ignorance and superstition, 
and prepares the people for instruction and self-respect. It adds wisdom to 
legislation, and improved judgment to government. It favors enterprise 
that yields a reward to the many, and an industry" that is permanent. It is 
the pioneer of humanit}^ — the conservator of nations. It fails only 

WHEN IT CEASES TO BE TRUE TO ITSELF. VoX POPULI EST VOX DeI haS 

proved to be both a proverb and a prediction.^ 

It is a mistake to suppose that Democracy may not be advanced under 
diff'erent forms of government.^ Its own, it should be remembered, is the 



carry the banner aloft with integrity and 
sincerity are invincible in the cause of truth. 

1 " Often," says the son of the late Judge 
Story (whose father was in early life a dem- 
ocrat), " in speaking of this subject (democ- 
racy), I have heard him say, ' I like as much 
to see a young man democratic as an old man 
conservative. When we are old, we are 
cautious, and slow of change, if we have 
benefited by experience. When we are 
young, we hope too much, if we are generous 
and pure.'" — Life and Letters of Judge 
Story, Vol. i, p. 99. 

If " hoping too much " is derived from the 
conditions of purity and generosity — this 
language is not well chosen. Hope from 
such a source would be noble aspiration, 
and deeds would correspond with sentiment. 
To Avish or hope too much, and to make 
promises on such an excess without regard 
to experience, and which cannot be fulfilled, 
is not democratic. 

Condorcet, although an aristocrat by 



genius and by birth, became a democrat from 
philosophy. — Lamartine. 

2*' The Champion of Democracy must 
always either keep in front or be trampled." 

— Croly's Life of BurTce. 

3 A few years since, a member of the 
United States Senate sneeringly asked 
senator Allen, of Ohio, the question, " What 
is Democracy?" The following was the 
prompt reply : " Democracy is a sentiment 
not to be appalled, corrupted or comprom- 
ised. It knows no baseness ; it cowers to no 
danger ; it oppresses no weakness ; destruc- 
tive only of despotism, it is the sole conserv- 
ator of liberty, labor and property. It is 
the sentiment of freedom, of equal rights, of 
equal obligations, — the law of nature per- 
vading the law of the land." 

4 In the third century — one of the Chris- 
tian Fathers, in summing up the character- 
istics of a true Christian, said, in conclusion, 

— " In fact — to be a true Christian, a man 
must be a Demockat." 



THE DEMOCRATIC PAETY. 28 

highest conventional form, that which precedes the lofty independence of the 
individual spoken of by the apostle to the Hebrews, who will need no gov- 
ernment but from the law which the Lord has placed in his heart. i 

In one respect all nations are governed upon the same principle ; that is, 
each adopts the form which it has the understanding and the power to sus- 
tain. There is in all a greater and a lesser power, — and it requires no pro- 
found speculation to decide which will control. A tyrannical dictator may 
do more to advance the true interests of democracy than a moderate sov- 
ereign who is scrupulously guided by an antiquated constitution ; for the 
tyrant adds vigor to his opponents by his deeds of oppression.^ 

The frequent question as to what form of government is best, is often 
answered without any reference to condition or application of principles. 
There can be properly but one answer, and yet the application of that 
answer may lead to great diversitj' of views. 

When it is asserted that the democratic form of government is unques- 
tionabl}^ the best, it must be considered that the answer not only designates 
the form preferred, but implies a confident belief in the advanced condition 
of the people who are to be the subjects of it. It premises the capacity for 
self-control, and a corresponding degree of knowledge in regard to the rights, 
balances and necessities, of societ}^ It involves a discriminating apprecia- 
tion of the varied duties of the man, the citizen and the legislator. It pre- 
supposes a reasonable knowledge of the legitimate means and ends of gov- 
ernment, enlarged views of humanity, and of the elements of national 
existence. 3 

1 "For this is the covenant that I will racy?" asked Patrick Henry in the Yir- 
make with the house of Israel, after those ginia Convention, 1788. " Let me read that 
days, saith the Lord; I will put my laws clause of the bill of rights of Virginia 
into their mind, and write them in their which relates to this : (Bd clause) That 
hearts: and I will be to them a God, and government is or ought to be instituted for the 
they shall be to me a people : and they common benefit, protection and security of 
shall not teach every man his neighbor, and the people, nation or community ; of all the 
every man his brother, sajnng. Know the various modes and forms of government, 
Lord : for all shall know me, from the least that is best which is capable of producing 
to the greatest." Hebrews 8 : 10, 11. the greatest degree of happiness and safety, 

2 " It has been observed," says Sir James and is most efiectually secured against the 
Mackintosh, "that if the illustrious and dangers of mal- administration ; and that 
long-flourishing republic of the United Prov- whenever any goverment shall be found in- 
inces erected statues to the authors of its adequate, or contrary to those principles, 
liberty, the first would be due to Cardinal or contrary to those purposes, a majority 
Granvelle, whose tyrannical principles pro- of the community hath an indubitable, un- 
voked the spirit of resistance, and the sec- alienable, and indefeasible right to reform, 
ond to the Duke of Alva, who attempted to alter or abolish it, in such manner as shall 
carry Granvelle's principles into effect." be judged most conducive to the public 

8 " What, sir, is the genius of democ- weal." — Flliofs Deb., Yoi.. iii, t^. 77. 



24 HISTOKY OP DEMOCEACY. 

The democratic form of government is the best, because its standard of 
moral requisition is the highest. It claims for man a universality of inter- 
est, libert}^ and justice. It is Christianity, with its mountain beacons and 
guides. 1 It is the standard of Deity, based in the eternal principles of 
truth, passing through and rising above the yielding cloud of ignorance, 
into the regions of infinite wisdom. As we live on, this "pillar of the cloud 
by da}^ and the pillar of fire by night" will not be taken from before the 
people,^ but will stand immovable, immeasurable, and in the brightness of its 
glory continue to shed increasing light on a world and a universe. 

The great objects of knowledge and moral culture of the people are 
among its most prominent provisions.^ Practical religion and religious free- 
dom are the sunshine of its growth and glory .^ It is the sublime and mighty 
standard spoken of by the Psalmist, who exclaims, in the beautiful language 
of poetical conception : 

" The Lord is high above all nations, and his glory above the heavens. 
Who is like unto the Lord our God, who dwelleth on high; who humbleth him- 
self to behold the things that are in heaven, and in the earth ! He raiseth up 
the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill; that he may 
set him with princes, even with the princes of the people. " ^ 

To sa}^ that a man is not in a condition to realize or to appreciate such a 
standard, is to admit its necessity. To object to its lofty requisitions, is to 
establish its authorit}'. The standard for a world should be in harmony with 
the attributes of Deity, above and beyond the present wants of humanity. 
To say that an ignorant and immoral people are capable of self-govern- 
in the same convention, Judge Marshall is not the case now. Let the soldier be ever 
said, " What are the favorite maxims of so much abroad, in the present age, he can 
democracy ? A strict observance of justice do nothing. There is another person 
and public faith, and a steady adherence to abroad ; a less important person, — in the 
virtue. These, sir, are the principles of a eyes of some, an insignificant person, — 
good government." — 16., Vol. in, p. 223. whose labors have tended to produce this 

1 " Democracy," says the late Mr. Le- state of things : the schoolmaster is abroad ; 
garc, in an article published in the New and I trust more to the schoolmaster, armed 
York Review, "in the high and only true with his primer, than I do to the soldier, in 
sense of that much-abused Avord, is the des- his full military array, for upholding and ex- 
tiny of nations, because it is the spirit of tending the liberties of my country." 
Christianity." — Vol. v, p. 297. * In his chapter on the times of Erasmus 

"A man's supremacy over his own acci- and Luther, Froude says, — "The church 

jjcnts," — is a definition that has been given was essentially democratic, while at the same 

of democracy. time it had the monopoly of learning ; and 

2 Ex. 13 : 21. all the secular power fell to it which learn- 
8 " There have been periods," says Lord ing combined with sanctity and assisted by 

Brougham, "when the country heard with superstition, can bestow." 
dismay that ' the soldier was abroad.' That ^ Ps. 113 : 4-8. 



THE DEMOCEATIC PAETY. 25 

ment, is asserting that government may be administered without knowledge 
and without justice. Such a proposition is admitted by no one, and is, 
therefore, inadmissible in all discussions as to what form of government is 
best.i 

Democracy is a permanent element of progress, and is present every- 
where, whatever ma}^ be the temporary form of the ruling power. Its inex- 
tinguishable fires burst forth in an empire, and its welcome lights cheer the 
dark domains of despotism.^ While tjTants hate the patriot, and exile him 
from their contracted dominions, the spirit of democracy invests him as a 
missionar}^ of humanity, and inspires him with an eloquence which moves a 
world. Its lightning rays cannot be hidden, — its presence cannot be 
banished. Dictators, kings and emperors, are but its servants ; and, as man 
becomes elevated to the dignity of self-knowledge and control, their minis- 
tration ceases. Their rule indicates an imperfect state of society, and may 
be regarded as the moral props of the builder, necessary only to sustain a 
people in their different periods of growth. One cannot speak of them 
lightly, nor indulge in language that should seem to denj^ their fitness as the 
instruments of good in the hands of Providence. Their true position may 
be best gathered from the prediction which is based upon a knowledge of 
the past and present condition of man, — that all kingdoms and empires 
must cease, whenever a people have a knowledge of their rights, and acquire 
the power of a practical application of principles. This is the work of time. 

^ When Sicily was taken possession of by speakers, accompanied with such farious 

Great Britain, the SiciUan government was gesticulations and hideous contortions of 

formed after the model of the British. The countenance, such bitter taunts and personal 

result of this experiment is contained in the invectives, that blows generally ensued. 

following quotation from Travels in Sicily, This was the signal for universal uproar. 

Greece and Albania, by Rev. Mr. Hughes : The president's voice was unheeded and un- 

^^ No words can describe the scenes which heard; the whole house arose; partisans of 

daily occurred, upon the introduction of different antagonists mingled in the affray, 

the representative system in Sicily. The when the ground was literary covered with 

House of Parliament, neither moderated by combatants, kicking, biting, scratching and 

discretion nor conducted with dignity, bore exhibiting all the evolutions of the old Pan- 

the resemblance of a receptacle for lunatics, cratic contests. Such a state of things could 

instead of a council -room for legislators ; not be expected to last a long time ; indeed, 

and the disgraceful scenes so often enacted this constitutional' synod was dissolved in 

at the hustings in England, were here trans- the very first year of its creation, and mar- 

ferred to the very floor of the senate. As tial law established." — Vol. i, pp. 5-7. 

soon as the president had proposed the sub- This statement, though said to be authen- 

ject for debate, and restored some degree of tic, bears the marks of prejudice and exag- 

order from the confusion of tongues which geration. Results are given with an 

followed, a system of crimination and re- assumptive statement of causes, 

crimination invariably commenced by several 2 ^ jg ^^^t Lord Bolingbroke denominated 



26 HISTORY of' DEMOCKACY. 

It is the work of constant, repeated trial. The child that attempts to step 
an hundred times and falls ; the new-fledged bird that tries its feeble wings 
again and again before it is able to sweep the circle of the sky with its 
kindred flock, indicate the simple law upon which all strength depends, 
whether it be the strength of an insect, or the strength of a nation. i 

Because a people do not succeed in changing their form of government, 
even after repeated trials, we are not to infer that they are indulging in 
impracticable experiments, nor that they will be disappointed in ultimately 
realizing the great objects of their ambition. Indeed, all failures of this 
class are indicative of progressive endeavor. They imply an increasing 
knowledge of the true dignity of man, and a growing disposition to engage 
in new and more and more difficult endeavors. These endeavors are but 
the exercise of a nation, and without them no people can ever command the 
elements of national existence and of self-control. But inquiries in regard 
to so extensive a subject should be shaped within more practical limits. 

It is not a little remarkable that while democratic principles have been 
recognized, more or less, during all ages of the world, intelligent thinkers 
approach the inquir}^ respecting the tendencies of democracy as if its mis- 
sion were of recent origin, and its blessings of a questionable nature. 

*'It was a curious spectacle," says Montesquieu, "to behold the vain 
efforts of the English to establish among themselves a democracy." 

In a letter to Lord Sheffield, Aug. 1792, Gibbon says, — "The terrors 
which might haA'e driven me hence (France) have in a great measure sub- 
sided ; our state-prisoners are forgotten : the country begins to recover its 
old good-humor and unsuspecting confidence, and the last revolution of 
Paris appears to have convinced everybody of the fatal consequences of 
democratic principles, which lead by a path of flowers into the ab3^ss of 
hell." 

In these extracts an Englishman speaks of democracy in France, and a 

*' the spirit of liberty " in contradistinction of his first and most indispensable duty; for 
" to the spirit of dominion." it is nobler to see an object effected through 
1 This great truth is beautifully acknowl- a reverent regard for law and order, than 
edged by Humboldt. He says, — "If even conceded to the imperious demands of abso- 
to behold a people breaking their fetters as- lute necessity ; and the more so when we con- 
sunder, in the full consciousness of their sider that the freedom which a nation 
rights as men and citizens, is a beautiful strives to attain through the overthrow of 
and ennobling spectacle : it must be still existing institutions, is but as hope to en- 
more fair, and full of uplifting hope, to wit- joyment, as preparation to perfection, when 
ness a prince himself unloosing the bonds of compared with that which a State, once 
thraldom and granting freedom to his peo- constituted, can hQsio^ " — Sphere and 
pie, — nor this as the mere bounty of his Duties of Government, p. 5. 
gracious condescension, but as the discharge 



THE PEMOCEATIC PARTY. 27 

Frenchman of democracy in England, but with no defined ideas upon the 
subject. Both evidently use the word as signifying a wild enthusiasm that 
fascinates the common mind with its Utopian promises, and emplo}^ it to 
designate a revolutionary process of popularizing the form or the adminis- 
tration of the government. Fanaticism is not democracy, nor is democracy 
the spirit of revolution. Excess of any kind does not make a part of its 
definition. What more gentle than the playful zephyr upon the iEolian Lyre, 
or more terrible than the roaring tornado rushing in its fur}^ over the fair 
face of nature, and 3'et, both are produced by the same cause, modified 
only in degree. So of man. The faculties and passions of the soul that 
combine in their activity to form the noblest and loveliest characters, 
when chafed by wrong, or stung by insult and centred in the common mul- 
titude and directed by the voice of phrensy, — produce a storm of terror 
mingled with detestation, infinitely more frightful than the dark and devas- 
tating gusts and whirls of elemental war. The natural agents most em- 
plo3^ed to bless mankind, when perverted or undirected, often become the 
instrumentalities of the greatest evils. While science cannot be made 
responsible for the violences or excesses of nature, it is unreasonable to hold 
democrac}" as accountable for the excesses of mind. It neither seeks to 
produce them, nor willingly yields to their sway. 

Equal rights, when considered in relation to the wants and condition of 
the people, is but another term for universal justice, demanding the nicest 
discrimination of principles, and the most careful adjustment of interests. 
The standard of democracy, the government of the people, can permit no re- 
dundancy of privilege, nor inequality of benefit. So far as possible, all must 
be served alike, whether to enjoy or to suffer. \ Democrac}^ is strictly a 
science of government, and " it aims, like other sciences, at truth, and 
advances, pari passu, with its developments." More than this, it is a S3'stem 
of government based upon common sense, strictly adapted to the wants and 
condition of the people. It is simple, plain, economical, comprehensive and 
just. An}^ excess, that favors or injures any one, or any class, that can be 
avoided, is not only a special evil, but a general calamity. It is anti-dem- 
ocratic. The abuses of democracj^ is quite another subject, for it is an old 
proverb that "the best things when abused become the worst." 

De Tocqueville, with his deep sensibilit}^ and characteristic sincerit}^, 
approaches the subject with sentiments of mingled awe and reverence. 
He cannot doubt the teachings of history, and yet he trembles when he 
attempts to draw a line between the errors of man and the will of God. He 
sees the problems of the past as solved by Providence, — but he is bewildered 
by the fearful problems of the present, when philosophy assumes to speak 
the language of prophecy. 



28 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

He says, — " If we examine what has happened in France at intervals of fifty 
3-ears, beginning with the eleventh century, we shall invariably perceive that 
a twofold revolution has taken place in the state of society. The noble has 
gone down on the social ladder, and the roturier has gone up ; the one de- 
scends as the other rises. Every half-centur}' brings them nearer to each other, 
and the}' will very shortly meet. * 

"Nor is this phenomenon at all peculiar to France. Whithersoever we 
turn our qjqs we shall witness the same continual revolution throughout the 
whole of Ckristendom. 

" The various occurrences of national existence have everywhere turned to 
the advantage of democracy ; all men have aided it b}^ their exertions ; those 
who have intentionally labored in its cause, and those who have served it 
unwittingl}^ ; those who have fought for it, and those who have declared 
themselves its opponents, — have all been driven along in the same track, 
have all labored to one end, some ignorantl}' and some unwillingly ; all have 
been blind instruments in the hands of God. 

" The gradual development of the equality of conditions is, therefore, a 
providential fact, and it possesses all the characteristics of a Divine decree : 
it is universal, it is durable, it constantly eludes all human interference ; and 
all events, as well as all men, contribute to its progress. 

" Would it, then, be wise to imagine that a social impulse which dates 
from so far back, can be checked b}' the efforts of a generation ? Is it credible 
that the democracy which has annihilated the feudal s^^stem and vanquished 
kings, will respect the citizen and the capitalist? Will it stop now that it is 
grown so strong and its adversaries so weak ? 

" None can say which way we are going, for all terms of comparison are 
wanting: the equality of conditions is more complete in the Christian 
countries of the present da}^ than it has been at any time, or in any part of 
the world ; so that the extent of what already exists prevents us from fore- 
seeing what maj' be y^t to come. 

"The whole book which is here offered to the public ("Democracy in 
America " ) has been written under the impression of a kind of religious 
dread produced in the author's mind by the contemplation of so irresistible 
a revolution, which has advanced for centuries in spite of such amazing 
obstacles, and which is still proceeding in the midst of the ruins it has 
made. 

"It is not necessary that God himself should speak in order to disclose to 
us the unquestionable signs of his will ; we can discern them in the habitual 
course of nature, and in the invariable tendency of events : I know, with- 
out a special revelation, that the planets move in the orbits traced by the 
Creator's finger. 



THE OBJECTS OF HISTORY. 29 

"If the men of our time were led by attentive observation and by sincere 
reflection, to acknowledge that the gradual and progressive development of 
social equality is at once the past and future of their history, this solitary 
truth would confer the sacred character of a divine decree upon the change. 
To attempt to check democracy would be in that case to resist the will of 
God ; and the nations would then be constrained to make the best of the 
social lot awarded to them by Providence. 

" The Christian nations of our age seem to me to present a most alarming 
spectacle ; the impulse which is bearing them along is so strong that it can- 
not be stopped, but it is not yet so rapid that it cannot be guided : their 
fate is in their hands ; yet a little while and it may be so no longer. 

" The first dutj' which is at this time imposed upon those who direct our 
affairs is to educate the democracy ; to warm its faith, if that be possible ; to 
purify its morals ; to direct its energies ; to substitute a knowledge of business 
for its inexperience, and an acquaintance with its true interests for its blind 
propensities ; to adapt its government to time and place, and to modif}^ it in 
compliance with the occurrences and the actors of the age. A new science 
of politics is indispensable to a new world." ^ 



THE OBJECTS OF HISTORY. 

In writing a history, whether it be of science, man, or of nations, the 
mind is influenced by certain definite motives in respect to the development 
of principles. The stud}^ of events, and the frequent repetition of the same 
phenomena connected with mind, condition or happiness, should result in 
opening to the understanding certain fundamental principles, which discover 
not onl}^ the great objects of life, but the surest means of their accomplish- 
ment. To assert, therefore, the following propositions, will not be deemed 
too formal by the reader, when he is assured that the chief motive in their 
assertion is to insure distinctness and simplicity. They are stated consec- 
utively, that their logical relations may more readily be seen. 

I. That man is capable of infinite progress, as the agent of knowledge 
and the seeker of power. II. That his sphere of action embraces (1st), 
Duties to himself and society, (2d), Duties to the nation of his nativity, 
(3d), Duties to the world, and (4th), Duties to God. III. That the prop- 
osition premising capacity for progress, comprehends certainty. lY. That 
certainty of fact implies certainty of means. V. That certainty of means im- 
plies knowledge and certainty of success ; and, VI. That certaint}' of success 
is a fact proved both by the history of nations and by the condition of man. 

1 "Democracy in America," pp.12, 13, written 1836. 



30 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

In view of these propositions, to be considered as one of a collective and 
relative character, it is proposed to give a brief review of history to show 
that the destiny of man is that of perpetual advancement in knowledge, free- 
dom and happiness, and that Democracy is the great instrument by which 
these ends are to be accomplished. 

It is a singular perversity of intellect, which has characterized almost every 
age, that, while physical results are traced with a confidence and certainty 
that give no place to doubt, the moral world is practically looked upon as 
subjected to no rule but that of chance, and without any recognition of fun- 
damental laws. 

If we turn to the plwsical sciences, we find each defined with a distinct view 
of their elements and objects. There is no ambiguity or uncertainty^ A prop- 
osition is either proved to be true, or shown to be false. Why may not a 
more exact method be adopted in the stud}^ of history, so as to insure an 
accurate knowledge of events as causes, and arrive at a similar result, that 
the inquirer may be able to solve with more clearness the great problems of 
man's capability and destiny? To show that virtue is indissolubly con- 
nected with happiness, crime with miserj^, and industr}^ with thrift and con- 
tent? To show that the spirit of libert}^ is an eternal principle, and that 
nations are destined to be blessed b}^ its unconquerable presence ? To show 
that it is the nature of knowledge to disarm t^^'anny, and to dispel supersti- 
tion ? To show that life is but a warfare between the elements of good and 
evil, and that unlimited confidence in G-od is victory on the side of human- 
ity ? 1 To show that nations ruled by wisdom must prosper, and that nations 
governed by a disregard to justice must fall ? To show that kings and em- 
perors are to become as nothing — the people everything ?2 — and that what- 

1 These great and beautiful truths are illus- etat?" And he answered, "Nothing." — 
trated by Providence. The principle of good " What ought it to be ? " — "Everything." 
in nature is admirably expressed by Baron 

Humboldt: "The ever restless impulsive That the people think and discriminate 

force inherent in the very nature of things," is no modern fact. Nearly 2000 years B. 

he says, " incessantly struggles against the C, in the Chinese Empire — there were 

operation of every pernicious institution, two parties described in ballads. The boys 

while it promotes as actively everything of were taught to sing: " He who has estab- 

a beneficial tendency ; so that we may ac- hshed the multitude of us people is none 

ccpt it in the highest sense as true, that the other than your Eminence ; (Emperor) we 

sum of evil produced at any time, even by know and understand nothing, but to obey 

the most determined eagerness and activity, the Emperors laws." There were some old 

can never equal the fair amount of good men, however, who smote the clods, and 

that is everywhere and at all times spontane- sang along the roads, saying, — " At sun- 

ously effected."— r/ie Sphere and Du- rise we engage in labor, and at sunset we 

ties of Government, p. 42. rest ; we dig our own wells and drink ; we 

2 In reference to France, the Abbe Sieyes plough our own fields and eat; what does 
asked this question: "What is the tiers- the Emperor's strength avail us ? " 



THE MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF CREATION. 31 

ever we think or do should be in harmonj^ with the great plan of Divine Provi- 
dence, as to what we are, and are to be ? 

A distinguished thinker uses the following language : 

"In the moral world, as in the physical world, nothing is anomalous; 
nothing is unnatural ; nothing is strange. All is order, symmetry and law. 
There are opposites, but there are no contradictions In the character of a 
nation, inconsistency is impossible. Such, however, is still the backward 
condition of the human mind, and with so evil and jaundiced an e3'e do we 
approach the greatest problems, that not only common writers, but even 
men from whom better things might be hoped, are on this point involved in 
constant confusion, perplexing themselves and their readers b}^ speaking of 
inconsistency as if it were a quality belonging to the subject which they 
investigate, instead of being, as it really is, a measure of their own igno- 
rance. It is the business of the historian to remove this ignorance, by 
showing that the movements of nations are perfectly regular, and that, like 
all other movements, the}^ are solely determined by their antecedents. If he 
cannot do this, he is no historian. He may be an annalist, or a biographer, 
or a chronicler ; but higher than that he cannot rise, unless he is imbued with 
that spirit of science which teaches as an article of faith, the doctrine of 
uniform sequence ; in other words, the doctrine that certain events having al- 
ready happened, certain other events corresponding to them will also happen." 



THE MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF CREATION. 

The Mosaic account of creation, though brief and allegorical, breathes the 
spirit of love in its teachings of gradual development. From chaos to 
order, from substance to form, from darkness to light, from light to beauty, 
and from organized matter to production, may be seen the diversified ele- 
ments of a world springing into harmonious being and living action. 

In alluding to early historj^, reference cannot be made with so much con- 
fidence to events, which are but imperfectly^ stated, as to the spirit of histor^^ 
itself. Its recitals are poetic, and knowledge ma}^ be gathered from the lofty 
sentiment which pervades them. It has been well remarked by an author of 
much merit that, "All that can make man happy upon earth, and bear him 
rejoicing up to heaven, has its beginning and its end in the worship of his 
Creator." i The Hebrew knew no government but that of God, and was 
influenced by no power but that of divinitj'. " Wherever the Israelite 
turned, he was reminded," saj^s an intelligent writer, "of the presence of his 
God and of his King. His King was in heaven, his God was on earth." ^ 

The history of Moses is an important source of instruction, in so far as it 

1 EHot's Roman Liberty. * lb. 



32 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

relates to the condition of societ}- in its earliest periods. In it is found a 
vivid deserii)tion of an oppressive government, of a people struggling for 
libert}', and of a government party emplojing all the engines of its authority 
to oppose the part}^ of freedom, which is designated as the party of the Lord. 
There the reader finds a lawgiver of supernatural energies, asking wisdom 
of his Maker to dispense to the people, that they might understand their 
rights, their duties and necessities. He consults for them with a livel}' concern, 
and predicts with truthful precision the blessings which flow from obedience 
to just laws, from habits of industr}^, and the inevitable penalties w^hich 
await all who are wilfully indifferent to their requisitions. 

Some profit might be derived from a study of Egypt, China,i and other 
ancient empires, b}^ noting, so far as we should be able to do from the un- 
certain sources of history, the various causes of their growth, changes or 
deca}^ ; but we are admonished by the limits of this work to confine our re- 
marks to such nations as will best illustrate the great topics to be discussed. 
These earh' periods are alluded to chiefly for the purpose of claiming for the 
subject under consideration the most extended inquiry, with the conviction 
that the reader will find ample historical evidence tending to prove that the 
elements of national existence before the Christian era are constantly being 
reproduced by the people and rulers of modern times, though in new and ad- 
vanced combinations.^ 



INTERPRETATION OF LANGUAGE — UNCERTAINTIES OF HISTORY. 

It is well remarked b}^ Thierry that " the situation of civilized men varies 
and renews itself incessantl3^ Every century that passes over a people 

1 Yu, Emperor of China, 2204 B. C, pure monarchy, sometimes theocracy or 
suspended bells, drums, musical stones, democracy, that prevails; but each in its 
rattles and tambours, for the service of the turn prevails completely. Modern Europe 
scholars who came from all quarters; say- presents us with examples of all systems, of 
ing, — " He who wishes to guide me in the all experiments of social organization ; pure 
right way, may beat the drum ; he who can and mixed monarchies, theocracies, repub- 
instruct me in rectitude, may ring the bell ; lies, more or less aristocratic, have thus 
he who may have any business to inform thrived simultaneously, one beside the 
me of, may spring the rattle; those who other; and, notwithstanding their diversity, 
have any complaint to make, may strike they have all a certain resemblance, a cer- 
the musical stones ; while those who have a tain family likeness, which it is impossible 
cause to try, — may shake the tambour." to mistake.'* — Hist. Civ. of Europe, Yot.. 
What could be more democratic in an em- i, p. 24. In this diversity of form we find 
peror? the elements of progress. As society ad- 

2 "In ancient times," says M. Guizot, vances, diversity lessens, and unity is ap- 
" at every great epoch, all societies seem proached. 

cast in the same mould : it is sometimes 



INTEEPBETATION OF LANGUAGE. 83 

leaves a diiferent mode of life, different interest, different wants, from what 
it found. But in this succession of different states language does not change 
so rapidl}^ as things, and it is rare that new facts meet at au}^ gi^en point 
with new signs that express them." ^ 

The importance of this practical view can hardly be overestimated. The 
modes of expression employed by rude and ignorant nations are generalh^ 
liyperbolical ; and when we consider that every age, from the earliest to the 
latest periods, has its own standard of justice and refinement, its own schools 
of thought, and its own habits and customs, corresponding to the varying 
peculiarities of people, government and institutions, we cannot long be at a 
loss to account for the prolific sources of the uncertainties of histor3% In 
the transmission of knowledge from the ancient philosopher and orator to 
modern times, the scholar of each succeeding period is ambitious to afford to 
his generation an improved translation, a more polished diction of the class- 
ics, adding gior3^ to the heroes and wisdom to the philosophers of histor3^ 
The goodness of the great becomes magnified, the learning of the sage exag- 
gerated, and the patriotism of the lawgiver exalted. The stor^^ of the 
battle-field, the loves of the poets, the burning eloquence of the rostrum, and 
the stately dignity of a Plato, a Lycurgus, a Caesar, or a Pompe^^, and the 
glowing descriptions of regal splendor, are too often made the standards of 
present moral endeavor, and the ornaments of modern descriptions of great- 
ness. A man of slight knowledge among the ancients was more the prodigy 
of his period than the most learned man of modern times. 

In speaking of great men, M. Guizot seems to have surrendered his usual 
powers of anal3'sis to the counsels of his fears, when he ssljs, " From the 
time when labor has been free, and subject to the same laws for all, the 
number of men who have raised themselves to the first ranks in the liberal 
professions has not sensibly increased. It does not appear that there are 
now more great lawyers or ph3'^sicians, more men of science or letters of the 
first order, than there were formerly-. It is the men of the second order, and 
the obscure and idle multitude, that are multiplied." ^ 

M. Guizot seems to forget that, as the masses of societ^^ are elevated by 
the increasing means of genius and education, and as the professors of learn- 
ing become more numerous, the standard of greatness is much higher than 
formerly. The possession of knowledge in ancient times was deemed almost 
as one of the prerogatives of sovereignty, or as within the sphere of theocratic 
rule. If a philosopher arose from the ranks of the common people, he was 
directly claimed as the companion for princes. Men of science seldom con-^ 
descended to teach the ignorant, except to excite their sentiment of wonder^, 
and the ignorant esteemed it presumption to aspire to a knowledge of the 

1 Hist. Essays, p. 25. ^ Democracy in France, p. 32. 

3 



34 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

m3-steries of mind. It must not be supposed that the spreading light of 
Chi'istian civilization renders less certain or difficult the extraordinary devel- 
opments of genius, so much as it tends to advance the common mind to the 
dignity of enlightened endeavors and intelligent appreciation. 

It is to be admitted that the hallucinations of history sometimes shine with 
a borrowed light, and add to the spirit of ambitious endeavor. In actual 
ignorance of the powers of Demosthenes and Cicero, the orators of all coming 
time may hold them up as models, to be reached, — though many of modern 
times may have surpassed them in eloquence, and died without a name for 
posterity. Darkness is a necessary condition to the appreciation of light ; 
and when sunshine is perpetual, it ceases to be prized as a blessing,^ thus 
showing that the sources of mental activity exist less in what we see and 
possess, than in what we think and feel of what has been or may be. 

Impressed with such considerations of allowance, we may speak of the 
Republics of Greece and Rome, and not commit the common error of meas- 
uring their sources of power, or causes of decay, by a standard of a doubtful 
scale. 



REPUBLICS OF GREECE AND ROME. 

The language of politics remains essentially unchanged, though varied in 
application. What sovereignt}^, submission, government, people, were to 
Athens or Rome, the}^ are essentiall}^ to the nations of to-da^^ These words 
indicate the relations, but not the conditions, of power. The relations of 
duty are perpetual, but capacity may be adjusted to a low or to a high 
standard. 

If we study the harmony of history, so far as it relates to Ancient Greece 
and Rome, we cannot fail to discover a state of society so entirely different 
from that of modern times, that we are led to exercise great care in building 
theories upon comparisons. It is sufficient for our present purpose to allude to 
the indisputable fact that the republics of Greece and Rome commenced their 
growth with the rudest elements of society, and gradually added to their 
sources of power, prosperity and character, by means of a special domestic 
activity in combination with a liberal policy in regard to foreigners. They 
were advanced by the spirit of democrac}^ ; and though the}^ were occasionally 
interrupted, by departures from the principle, in their periods of decline, still, 
all their great and glorious conquests may be traced to the patriotism of the 
people responding to the demands of a liberal government. A careful study 
of history does not end in wonder why the republics of Greece and Rome 

1 In latitudes where the temperature of cloud or a storm is hailed with enthusiastic 
I the climate is uniform, and the sky clear, a demonstrations of joy. 



REPUBLICS OF GEEECE AND EOME. 35 

were not saved b}' democracy, but in the logical conviction Trhich comes from 
knowledge that their civilization was too limited, too partial and too feeble, to 
be continued, except in dissolution, and in renewed combinations of a higher 
life and a more extended philosophj^ 

It is to be observed that the different cities of Greece were made up of 
men of different origin, tastes and endowments. Each class had its peculiar 
sphere of activity ; each developed a different portion of the human faculties, 
and each produced its own proper results ; and all found deca}^ in the univer- 
sal law of death to the partial or artificial conditions of ignorance, and to 
the rule of injustice. 

The people of Athens were quick and bold, but the}^ were deficient in the 
elements of endurance. They were in some degree intellectual, but their 
tastes tended rather to the refinements of art than to solid attainments. 

They were industrious, and loved peace ; but the products of their labor 
were dissipated by licentious habits and luxurious living. What was design- 
ed by Providence to give the comforts of life to a nation proved fatal to 
them as a people. ^ If they were sometimes patriotic, they were often treach- 
erous, and though evidently of a pacific disposition, compared with other 
people of the same period, they were broken into numerous factions, and 
failed to realize that unity of character and purpose so necessary to the 
permanency of national power. They announced their laws and administered 
justice with an apparent show of respect for the will of the people ; bu t they 
permitted no citizen to propose reform without incurring the risk of being 
rendered infamous by failure ; and if they had any conception of equal rights 
defined by law, they were shamefully faithless to their own avowed principles 
by a resort to ostracism,, to remedy an evil arising from jealousy by a total 
disregard of the most obvious rights of humanit}^ Their concentration of 
genius upon the fine arts gave them a golden age, which will ever stand as a 
shining monument to their matchless achievements. But their sculptors and 
painters quarried but a single vein of the human mind ; and their productions 
of skill and beauty served rather to increase their pride and vanity than to 
extend the domain of wisdom. It has been said, that "while the object of 
Milton's Paradise Lost is to vindicate the waj^s of God to man, the ignoble 
subject of Homer's Iliad is the rage of Achilles." Their passions were alive 
to the externals of nature, to the personal relations of individuals ; but they 
accomplished but little toward maturing a judgment that could either point 
out or supply the legitimate wants of society, or comprehend the government 
of a nation.^ 

1 Aristotle said of the Athenians, ''That 2'<it is customary," says an intefiigent 
they have both wheat and laws : the wheat writer, "to contrast the fall of Athens with 
they make use of, the laws not." her greatness at one time, and to attribute 

that fall to her democracy. It seems to be 



36 HISTOHY OF DEMOCEACY. 

In noticing tlie Republic of Laced^mon, it will not be attempted to exam- 
ine the ingenious theories of writers in regard to the origin of the peculiar 
government instituted b}' L3'^curgus, all of them being worthy of perusal, 
though no one having the merit of presenting an analysis not liable to some • 
objection. 

L3 curgus was doubtless influenced by what he deemed to be the results of 
experience. lie was of the eclectic school, and evidently endeavored to 
select the best features of the governments of foreign nations which he 
A'isited, and to reject whatever he supposed had resulted in more evil than 
good.i In his studies he saw national strength in a hard}^ and a militar}^ 
race. To him the ph3'sical world controlled the moral, — and yet he ac- 
knowledged a power above it. He saw that unitj^ of character could onlj^ 
come from isolation, and that the foreign element rendered a people doubtful. 
He saw that commerce engendered selfishness, which was inconsistent with 
patriotism ; and that money ,though a convenient servant, was a corrupting and 
debasing master.^ As he considered his mission to be that of a ruler and 
lawgiver, the state was paramount to all other interests. He sought for 
sources of strength in sj'stem which only come from character. He circum- 
scribed his views to embrace onl}' what concerned his own nation, leaving a 
similar independence to others. The individual was lost in the republic. 
He not onl}^ sought to control the elements of power, but to shut out, or 
literally to close, the conjectured sources of weakness, as if human nature 
could be expelled from the human breast. The romance of love was re- 
garded as unmanl}^ ; the domestic affections, selfish. The fine arts and the 
refinements of societ}^ were looked upon as beneath the dignity of the state, 
and whatever bore the features of effeminacy was held in public contempt. 
A cursor}^ view of his S3'stem shows that he saw danger in the partialities of 
parental love, danger in the affections of woman, and danger in whatever did 
not directly tend to the perfecting of the physical man, to the power of 



forgotten, that, but for her democracy, she * As money is a conventional power, and 

never would have had a place from which exists only by legislation, for the convenience 

to fall." of society, as a certificate of value, Lycur- 

1 Plutarch says, that Lycurgus, on re- gus sought to protect it from abuse, by 

turning, after an absence of many years, keeping it to its legitimate uses. His money 

•which he had spent in Crete, Egypt, Africa, was but a small improvement upon the an- 

Spain and Asia, in conference with the cient system of barter. The sum of ten 

loarned men of all these countries, and in mince — equal to about one hundred and 

the study of their laws and governments, fifty dollars — would, in the Spartan money, 

conceived the great design of entirely new as Plutarch tells us, fill a large apartment, 

modelling the laws and constitution of his and could not be transported without a yoke 

country, then in the utmost disorder and of oxen, 
imperfection. 



REPUBLICS OF GREECE AND ROME. 37 

the citizen, to the skill and bravery of the soldier, and the unity of the 
republic.! 

Such a s^'stem of government was not established without gi'eat and 
/original energies of mind, nor without great difficulty .2 It exhibits a theory 
which embraces contradictory elements ; and, while it provides with a careful 
hand for the exercise and cultivation of a portion of the human faculties, it 
proscribes and prohibits the activity of all the rest. But half of the man is 
recognized and acknowledged. The visible results of the Creator's might 
were looked upon as causes, — but the spirit of his love, which clothes a world 
in beauty, was undiscovered. More confidence was shown in the ph^^sical 
than in the moral nature of man ; and, while all the benefits were demanded 
which help to build up a state, the nation was counted nothing beyond its 
own sphere. The state claimed to encourage and protect the true interests 
of man, and yet esteemed the objects of life as beneath its dignit}^ It 
mistook the ultimate formations of society for the social and domestic duties 
of life ; and, while it was alive to everj^thing which promised protection and 
defence, it discovered the singular absurdity of having nothing to defend. 

The republic of Lacedaemon was more like a standing arm}^, permanently 
encamped, than a nation ; and the people more like soldiers than citizens. 
Thus we have another example of a republic based upon a limited portion of 
the human faculties. It made but a partial provision for the whole nature 
of man, and the neglected faculties rebelled against the unnatural outrage.^ 

The people of Athens were false to humanity, by their exclusive devotion 
to the fine arts and poetry, as if luxuries were the sole objects of life ; and the 
Lacedaemonians committed a similar error, by opposing, though from motives 
of an opposite character, all the refinements of society, — as if war was to 
be the final destiny of nations. Both stand as representatives of extreme 



1 Children in Sparta were not considered citizens excited such commotion that, in a 
as belonging to the individual parents, but popular tumult, he had one of his eyes 
to the state. After the performance of the beaten out. 

first maternal duties, the youth were edu- " It is false," says Thierry, " that assem- 

cated at the charge of the public ; and every bled men ever gave themselves up to one 

citizen had as much authority over his amongst them, permitting him to arrange, 

neighbor's children as over his own. Slaves, and, as it is expressed, to constitute them 

in the same manner, were a species of com- in his own way." It is remarked by Fer- 

mon property. Every man might make use guson, that " we must somewhat mistrust 

of his neighbor's slaves, and hunt, as Xeno- what tradition teaches us respecting ancient 

phon informs us, not only with his neigh- legislators and founders of kingdoms. The 

bor's servants, but with his dogs and horses, plans which are supposed to have proceeded 

2 Although it was said by Plato that from them were, probably, only the conse- 
Lycurgus "appeared like a god among quences of an anterior situation." 

men," still, his regulation of the diet of the 3 Still, there were two parties. The re- 



38 . HISTORY OF PEMOCEACY. 

experiments to illustrate the results of opposite causes ; and both afford 
examples to prove that no nation can continue permanently to exist and 
prosper while it neglects to provide for the development of all the funda- 
mental faculties of man. 



EEPUBLIC OF ROME. 

Turning to Ancient Rome, a people is found early inspired by motives 
of ambition to control, and who were favored by unusual endowments of 
courage and firmness. Its early kings are represented as men of great 
energy ; and, though the territory said to have been marked out by 
Romulus was small, still their policy had no limits, and they seem to have 
had an intuitive perception of many of those elements of growth which give 
power to a people and greatness to a nation. 

Their ambition was not satisfied by the control of a domestic policy, and 
thej'' earl}^ discovered a spirit to extend their possessions and to add to their 
population. They appear to have been divested of the natural prejudices 
peculiar to the races, and to have relied with great confidence upon a com- 
mon union of people, of different origin, customs and languages. They re- 
ceived into fellowship strangers ^ of every grade who manifested a disposition 
to dwell among them ; and they were surrounded by numerous colonies, or, 
more properly speaking, pett}^ settlements, or towns, which were gradually 
subdued, and counted as so many glorious conquests.^ The people were 
divided into two great classes, — the patricians^ and the plebeians; or, as 

turn of the Heraclidae gave two kings to ^ ajj^g^Q^y Q^Qj^jj^^ation of Europe," by 
Lacedsemon. In the partition of their M. Guizot : Vol. i, p. 27. 
conquests, Sparta fell to the share of Eurys- ^ The patricians were the first order, or 
thenes and Procles, the sons of Aristode- nobility, of the Roman people. When the 
mus, who agreed to a joint dominion, which constitution of Rome was monarchical, they 
should descend, in the same manner, to elected the king; and after the expulsion 
their posterity. The sovereignty, split into of the Tarquins, all the great officers of the 
two branches, remained thus divided for state — as consuls, praetors, &c., — were 
about nine hundred years. Condillac re- chosen from their body for many genera- 
marks that the throne seemed preserved in tions. Of the patricians, also, the senate 
the line of the Heraclidae, only with the view was composed; but, in after times, both this 
of preventing any citizen from aspiring to and the great magistracies were thrown open 
it ; and two kings were, in reality, less dan- to the plebeians. The plebeians, though 
gerous to liberty than one, since they con- personally independent, in early times had 
stantly kept alive two opposite parties, each no political power. The government was 
restraining the other's ambition, and thus entirely in the hands of the patricians, who, 
preventing all approach to tyranny. with their clients and the king, formed the 

original people. The plebeians gradually 

1 Tacitus, Vol. i, p. 7. gained ground, till, in the last ages of the 



• EEPUBLIC OF ROME. 39 

some assert, but not with much claim to accuracy, the conquerors and the 
conquered. 1 

However obscure the early history of Rome may be considered, it is 
obviously certain that the original settlers were not only characterized by a 
singular unity of purpose and feeling, but by an intuitive knowledge of 
principles. Romulus, it is said by the historian, was particular to show 
marked "respect for immortality obtained by merit ;" and when he gave to 
the rude and uninformed people a body of laws, he added to the dignity of 
his own carriage by assuming the ensigns of sovereignty, that the occasion 
might be remembered and respected. 

Livy claims for the Romans great purit}^ and magnanimity of charac- 
ter, and a profound respect for justice. Perhaps this language might be 
regarded, at the period in which he wrote, as truthful and applicable ; but 
not in the sense which would be implied by the use of such terms at the 
present day. The same author, in speaking of Cincinnatus, saj^s, " He was 
the sole hope of the empire of Rome ; " and this was at a period when the 
pompously announced empire did not extend more than twenty miles beyond 
the city !^ To have been so long the mistress of the world, is a fact that will 
account for much of the extravagance of history, and for many of the dis- 
crepancies of historians. During a portion of the period of her glorious rule, 
she may have been, comparatively speaking, the first in virtue, as well as the 
first in arms. Admitting such to be the fact, it is not to be inferred that the 
civilization of ancient Rome was anything more than a mere germ of what 



republic, they participated in all the affairs a truly aristocratic indignation! "From 

of the government. that time," says Titus Livius, " the state was 

1 Lucius Tarquinius is said to have af- split into two parties. The uncorrupted 
forded the first instance of making way to part of the people, who favored and sup- 
the crown by paying court to the people, ported the good, held one side ; the faction 
and to have made a speech composed for of the rabble, the other." It is not a httle 
the purpose of gaining the affections of the remarkable that Livy, in making this re- 
populace, — telling them that "it was no mark, should have forgotten the eloquent 
new favor which he solicited ; if that were speech of Caius Canuleius, given in his own 
the case, people might indeed be displeased work, who triumphantly exhibits the achieve- 
and surprised; that he was not the first ments of this "faction of the rabble." — (See 
foreigner, but the third (alluding to Tatius I hid Vol. 1, p 136. 

and Numa), who aimed at the government 2 Di^nysius of Halicarnassus discredited 

of Rome." — Baker's Livy, Vol. i, p. 26. his own authority, by confessing the motives 

When Caius Flavius, son of Cneius, which led to his extravagant expressions in 

grandson of a freedman, — a notary, in low regard to the Romans. He desired to make 

circumstances, originally, — was appointed a popular history, and one that would flatter 

curule cedile, it excited great indignation in the pride of the Romans, as well as inspire 

most of the nobles, who laid aside their gold his own countrymen, the Greeks, with a 

rings and bracelets in consequence of it, — high idea of the dignity of their conquerors. 



40 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

civilization is in modern times. We speak of civilization in the enlarged sense 
of the term, — as embracing the objects of life, and the knowledge of things. ^ 
It is giving to the ancient Romans an enviable position, to concede an early 
conception of the grand outline of man*s future greatness. That they extended 
the domain of mind, and exercised a greater number of the human faculties 
than any people of a previous period, is certainly true. But their labors were 
rudimental in the formation of nations ; and though highl}' suggestive, they 
are to be looked upon as parts of a great whole, detached from the original 
framework of their period, and showing how much was left to decay in their 
decline, and how 'little to remain as the monuments of their genius and 
greatness. 

There is no nation of ancient times, perhaps, which better illustrates the 
sources of prosperity and adversity than the Republic of Rome. Its long 
continued existence, and sovereign sway, — its universal control of nations, 
as well as of people, — placed within its reach all the diversified elements 
of power, and gaA-e the Romans the means of testing the value of every 
new thought, and of trying every variety of experiment peculiar to their 
times. They lived to see the growth of habits which generations accumulate, 
and to reap the reward of obedience to natural laws, or to suffer the penalties 
which are sure to follow their violation.^ 

It is a remark of a learned historian, that " No nation has afforded a more 
striking example than the Romans have done of the necessity of good morals 
to the preservation of political libert}^, and the happiness of the people." ^ 
This opinion is but the repetition of the advice of Phocion to Aristias. 
" Accustom your mind," said he, " to discern in the prosperitj' of nations, that 
recompense which the author of nature has affixed to the practice of virtue ; 
and in their adversity, the chastisement which he has thought proper to 
bestow on vice." ^ 

The proposition that virtue is indispensably necessary to the permanent 
prosperity of a nation is theoretically admitted by all. But, in stating this, 
it should not be forgotten to add another, embracing the equal necessity of 
knowledge. It was a remark of a Chinese historian, 1100 j^ears B. C, in 
speaking of the ancients of the empire, that "though they were far advanced 
in virtue thcv still warned and informed one another." A vn-tuous blind 



1 See "Republic of United States of throw of those free governments." — Pari. 
America," &c., p. 13. Deh., Vol. v, p. 930. 

2 " It is most evident, to all such as are in ^ Tytler. 

the least acquainted with the Greek and * Lord Bolingbroke says, " The grandeur 

Roman histories," says a writer in the of Rome was the work of many centuries, 

seventeenth century, " that bribery and cor- the effect of much wisdom, and the price of 

niption were the chief causes of the over- much blood." 



REPUBLIC OF ROME. 41 

man may walk over a precipice ; an honest traveller maj^ lose Ms wa}^ ; and 
an athletic wrestler, untrained in the art of swimming, may sink, powerless, 
in the flood. So a well-disposed people may abuse their privileges, and lose 
their liberties, through ignorance, — from want of knowledge of the requisite 
means to sustain them. In all such examples, the causes of failure may be 
mostly traced to defective knowledge of the natural laws, and of the funda- 
mental principles of government. 

Because the republic of Kome was independent as a nation, it does not 
follow that the Romans were free as a people. The sources of national 
existence may spring from the arbitrary exercise of individual power, from 
the conventional combinations of different races, or from the development of 
individual faculties. France, Russia, Austria, are independent nations ; but 
their people are far from being free. Mexico, and the republics of South 
America, are nominally independent nations ; but they stumble from consti- 
tutional weakness, and are weighed down by the shackles of ignorance, and 
blinded b}" the delusions of superstition. 

The fabled origin of Rome sufficiently indicates the spirit and pride of her 
people. Her founder was the reputed son of Mars ; and how true the 
people were to the god of war ma}^ be seen in the fact that the temple of 
Janus was closed but once during a period of eight hundred j^ears.^ 

If the Romans were brave, it must be confessed that they were turbulent ; 
and, if patriotic, that their highest motives were those of conquest. Their 
examples of magnanimity were but exhibitions of power ; and their acts of 
justice, condescensions of grace. Their zeal for freedom was but an unlim- 
ited confidence in the power of the strongest, and their philantliropy a pride, 
engendered in the scant benevolence of a clan, a class or a party. 

It is a proverbial saying, "that the corruptions of the best things are the 
worst ; " and Lord Bolingbroke makes an application of it to the'repiiblic of 
T^OTiie. Although the proverb may be true to a limited degree, 3^et it not 
only fails to explain itself, but conveys an error by implication. Things do 
not become the worst because they have been the best ; for this would be a 
confusion of language, premising an evil consequence as the effect of a good 
cause. The best things fail, because the}' are not sustained b}' other things 
to correspond. One good thing is not sufficient to form a character, or to 
save a nation. The best and worst things of a nation grow together, as the 

1 Thds temple was closed only during the period of Rome's existence, — once in the 

time of peace. It was during the interval reign of Numa, and the second time, after 

between the war against the Cantabri and the first Punic War, in the consulship of T. 

the Dalmatian expedition of Tiberius, that Manlius Torquatus. — Mebuhr' s Eome,Y ol,. 

Augustus closed the temple of Janus. It had v, p. 89. 
been closed only twice during the whole 



42 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



wheat and the tares of the planter. But the mastery of the good or the evil 
is onl}' seen at the harvest-time. i If the worst things prevail, the best are 
excluded, and a nation ceases. If the best things prevail, the worst are 
abated, and the nation is seen to be one of progress. 

A surve}^ of the vast field of the past, as represented by history, in which 
the ruins of the Roman empire lie scattered and covered by the dust of 
centuries, cannot fail to discover the crumbling fragments of tyranny, feroc- 
ity, ignorance, childish frivolit}', inordinate appetite and infamy, mixed with 
the huge piles of departed power and grandeur. The founder taking the 
blood of a brother ; ^ an Emperor, Commodus, regardless of the decencies of 
nature, corrupting his own sisters, keeping three hundred women, and as 
man}' bo3's, — to satisfy his digusting lusts, and claiming of the senate divine 
honors which were granted ; a daughter in exultation riding over the dead 
bod}' of a vanquished father ; ^ the wife of a ruler spitting upon the trunkless 
head of a Cicero, and piercing his lifeless tongue with a bodkin ; ^ a senate 
abased b}' the childish act of driving a nail into the sacred temple to stay 
an epidemic ; the Carib gladiator desecrating the earth by his unholy 
vows, and pledging devotion to all that is revolting and monstrous ; ^ 
rulers that were degraded by lust and violence, and patricians that were 



1 Matt. 13 : 25-30. 

2 When Romulus began to lay the founda- 
tions of Rome, and marked with a furrow 
the place where he wished to erect the walls, 
their slenderness was ridiculed by Remus, 
his brother, who leaped over them with the 
greatest contempt. This greatly irritated 
Romulus, and Remus was immediately put 
to death, either by the hand of his brother 
or one of his workmen. 

3 This was Tullia, a daughter of Servius 
Tullius, King of Rome. She married Tar- 
quin the Proud, after she had murdered her 
first husband, Aruns ; and consented to see 
Tullius assassinated, that Tarquin might be 
raised to the throne. It is said that she 
ordered her chariot to be driven over the 
body of her aged father, which had been 
thrown, all mangled and bloody, in one of 
the streets of Rome. 

* Cicero was overtaken while attempting 
to flee. His head was cut off, and carried, 
with his hands, to Antony. Fulvia, the 
wife of Antony, took the head in her lap, 



spit upon it, and, drawing out the tongue, 
pierced it several times with a bodkin. 

^ These gladiators were taught not only 
the use of their arms, but likewise the 
graceful postures of falling when they were 
wounded, and the finest attitudes in which 
to die. Their food was of such a nature as 
to enrich and thicken their blood, so that it 
might flow more slowly through their 
wounds, and thus give to the spectators a 
prolonged exhibition of their dying agonies. 
On entering their profession, these misera- 
ble beings were accustomed to take the fol- 
lowing oath : " We swear that we will suffer 
ourselves to be bound, scourged, burned, or 
killed by the sword, or whatever else 
Eumolpus ordains ; and thus, like free- 
born gladiators, we religiously devote both 
soul and body to our master." 

Emperor Commodus, desirous of being 
called Hercules, like that hero he adorned 
his shoulders with a lion's skin, and armed 
his hand with a knotted club. He showed 
himself naked in the amphitheatre, and 
fought with the gladiators. 



BEPUBLIC OF EOME. 



43 



debased by cupidity and bribery ; a nation continuing for a period of five 
hundred years without a practical knowledge of the divisions of time ; i 
a people demanding death to their best men, and life and authority for 
their worst ; ^ Csesar provoking a vomit that he might gorge at the supper- 
table of Cicero ; ^ great Scipio playing with the pebbles and shells on the 
banks of the Lucrine ; '^ and, as if necessar}^ to complete the humbling pic- 
ture, we see a people rejoicing in the infamy of an emperor,^ — an emperor 
taking the life of his mother ,6 singing to the furious fames that were con- 
suming the capital, and a government so lost to all pride and dccenc}- as to 
sell the control of the empire to the highest bidder, by public auction. ''' 

The " worst things " had prevailed, and the best had been excluded. A 
mere glimpse of the offensive picture is all that can be given here. Some- 
thing more was wanting than faithfulness to what they had. From the 
beginning, the}^ were destitute of the vital elements to be found only in 
Christian civilization. 

But, if we look to the means employed by the Romans to advance the 
grandeur and power of the republic, we shall find them chiefly represented in 



1 Extraordinary as it may appear to us, it 
is certain that the Romans were, for nearly 
five centuries, utterly ignorant of the day by 
hours, and knew no other distinction but 
that of morning, mid-day and evening. — 
Tytler, Vol. i, p. 443. 

2 "Rome was governed by the arbitrary 
will of the worst of her own citizens, of both ' 
sexes ; by Caligula, Nero, Messalina, Agrip- 
pina, Poppaea, Narcissus, Calistus, Pallas, — 
by princes who were stupid or mad." — Bol- 
inghroke on Parties^ p. 275. 

^ When Julius Caesar paid a reconciliatory 
visit to Cicero by inviting himself to sup 
with him, he took care to let Cicero know 
that he had taken a vomit beforehand, and 
was resolved to make a most enormous 
meal ; and Cicero tells us he kept his word, 
which, for his own part, he took very kindly, 
as a mark of Caesar's great politeness. — Cic. 
Epist. ad. Attic, 13, 52. 

* Cic. de Oratore, lib. ii,, c. 6. 

^ Poppaea, a woman of great beauty, but 
abandoned morals, had been seduced from 
her husband by Otho, who in his turn prosti- 
tuted her to the emperor, to serve his own 



purposes of ambition. She soon gained 
such an ascendency over Nero, that he was 
induced to divorce his wife Octavia, to 
make way for her to the throne ; and such 
was at this time the infamous servility of 
the Roman senate, that a panegyric was 
pronounced in praise of the emperor, and a 
deputation sent to congratulate him on tMs 
auspicious event. — Tytler, Vol. i, p. 487. 

^ Nero. 

■^ After Pertinax was openly murdered in 
the palace, Sulpicianus, the father-in-law of 
Pertinax, demanded the empire from the 
praetorians, who replied to him that he 
should have his chance for it at a fair auc- 
tion, as they had resolved to bestow it on 
the highest bidder. Didius Julianus, a 
wealthy senator, was present when the in- 
telligence was delivered. He was persuaded 
instantly to repair to the praetorian camp, 
and bidding at once a considerable sum be- 
yond the offer of Sulpicianus, he was im- 
mediately proclaimed emperor, and the 
senate did not scruple to sanction the infa- 
mous proceeding. Didius reigned sixty-six 
days. 



44 HISTOEY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the unsleeping spirit of democrac}'.! y^q shall find how the willingness of 
the higher classes to grant, was surpassed b}^ the energ}- of the lower to win, 
the extension of libert}^ in Ilome.^ 

The history of Rome is filled with the conflicts of part}'. The part}- lines 
were deeply drawn from the first, and the plebeians were left to struggle 
alone against oppression, until there arose a rivalry between the kings and 
the patricians, and then the people were courted b}' both for influence. If 
we turn to their legislation, we find the people gradually gaining their rights 
and establishing them. On the one hand, the senate, sustained by a powerful 
aristocracy, began by controlling the institutions of religion, the science of 
government, the objects of industry, the means of wealth, the prerogatives of 
peace and war, and the immunities of freedom. On the other, the people, 
made up of every variety of nation and language, — at first, ignorant of their 
rights, and still more so of the means necessary to secure them ; willing and 
brave as soldiers, and proud as citizens ; though unconscious of their impor- 
tance to the republic, still read}^ to serve in all enterprises tending to add to 
its glor}', — soon discovered that they had comforts to defend, privileges to 
secure, rights to understand, prerogatives to assert, and a conscious dignity 
which inheres in self-knowledge, and glows in the spirit of freedom, — to 
guard, defend, and to hold as sacred. They soon found, what the people of 
ever}^ nation have been destined to realize, not only the necessities of their 
political condition, but that they were opposed by a party of men who claimed 
distinctions on account of their rank, wealth and power, and who professed 
to be allied to the gods. Their advancement in knowledge, and developments 
of sentiment by the exciting circumstances of a growing state, gave definite- 
ness to their will and form to their wishes. Their petitions for reform were 
strenuously opposed by the conservative party ; but the democracy of the 
people prevailed. Their early expectations were modest, but every gain of 
power revealed new views of right ; and a history of their continued petitions 
is but the record of the means employed to build up the glory of the 
Republic. Added to these sources of strength and partisan activity, we 
should not omit to estimate the foreign element which pressed from without, 
and gave to the part}' conflicts at home a greater unit}', and freed the state 
in a great degree from the annoj'ance of numerous factions to which they 
were liable, on account of the great diversity of people who inhabited their 
territor}', having separate or peculiar interests. 

There is no better monument to the glory of the democracy of ancient 



^ The progress of the democratic party is speech to the Komans, as given by Livy, 
admirably given by Caius Canuleius, in a Vol. i, p. 136. 

2 Ehot's * ' Liberty of Eome. " 



HUMAN PEOGEESS. 45 

times than the Roman laws, which still have a living influence in the councils 
of all nations.! 

It is not the present purpose to speak of the particular causes of the fall 
of Rome ; for even a brief recital of their origin, nature and subsequent 
workings, is precluded by the limits of this work. The seeds of decay were 
planted at an early period of the nation ; and, while it was not within the 
limits of a Caesar's ambition or a Nero's wickedness to destroy, it was not 
given to the eloquence of a Cicero or the questionable patriotism of a Cassius 
or Brutus to save the Roman Empire. 

The fall of the Empire was the close of one political state, to be followed 
by others adapted to the moral wants and conditions of the world. Christi- 
anity began a new and distinct formation. ^ 



HUMAN PROGRESS. 

If the progress of man be traced, even from his earliest condition, he will 
be found passing through separate and distinctive periods of growth, appar- 
entl}^ in succession, though in mutual correspondence, and each suited to the 
special development either of a class of faculties, or tending to mature a new 
phase of society. The period maj^ be one of war, religious sentiment, politi- 
cal conflict, national consolidation or dissolution, or of social or moral 
reform. 

A great interest or a prominent feature of humanity is thus taken up, made 
the subject of universal discussion, developed for the instruction of an 
inquiring world, and sufficientl}^ advanced to serve as a permanent element 
of future progress. It stands as a block rough hewn, suited to repair the 
great temple of societ}^, and adapted to the wants of a coming period. The 
mind then returns, in its ceaseless activity, to bring forward another principle, 
another class of faculties, — still another and another, — each advancement 
creating a new necessity for others. These processes, apparentlj^ so partial, 
seeming alternately to favor and to neglect the momentous interests of man, 
often aflbrd a temporary triumph to the sceptic, and confound the limited 
minds of the superficial and ignorant. 

The yjrogress of humanity ma}" be likened to the successive necessities of 
repairing the ancient homestead. Sons are unwilling to disturb the old 

i*'It might, indeed, be affirmed," says periorityof their intelligence, to give laws 

D'Aguesseau, "that justice has fully de- to all posterity." 
veloped her mysteries only to the Roman 

lawyers. Legislators rather than juriscon- 2 Quizot says that *' Christianity was an 

suits, mere individuals in the shades of essentially practical revolution, — not a 

private life, have had the merit, by the su- mere scientific, speculative reform." 



46 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

framework of their fathers, and 3^et the decay of parts imperatively calls for 
repairs. But every attempt to add and to beautify discovers defects hj 
comparison, and the skill of the mechanic and artist stands in permanent 
requisition. 

" It was at the very time that the Roman Empire fell to pieces and disap- 
peared," says M. Guizot, " that the Christian church rallied, and definitely 
formed herself. Political unity perished, — religious unity arose." 

One is not inclined to make exceptions to the eloquent language of Guizot, 
although it ma^^ be permitted to ask a more permanent place for religion than 
is implied by his language. Religious influence may not always be visible 
to the eye of philosoph}', — but it is a false philosophy that assigns to it an 
occasional place. It is true the church may be false to the principle upon which 
it professes to be based ; and in this view, probabl}', it is that M. Guizot al- 
ludes to the visible recovery of her true position. Our assent can be given 
to no theor}' that for a moment precludes the eye of Deity, or gives to the - 
rule of chance a sw^a}" above that of Providence. The light of religion may 
be temporarily obscured by gusts of passion and the fearful throes of revo- 
lution, as that of the sun ma^^ be by the clouds of the tornado and tempest ; 
but its power never rests, — its glorious splendor never ceases. Its work is 
certain, and never finished. Its mission is to sta}^ the weak, to lead the 
strong, and to control the mighty. Its light is graduated to every degree of 
mental vision, its form to every condition of societ}^, and its inexhaustible 
treasures are held for the use of ever}' age and nation. The form of its ac- 
tivity is but the husk ; but its principle is that of unity itself, — subduing, 
enlarging and ever purifying the sources of happiness, and elevating the true 
dignity of man. The church became the practical form of its manifestation, 
adapted to an advanced civilization ; and we find its holy ministers in the 
priests and bishops, after the dissolution of the Roman Empire, clothed with 
authority as the principal municipal magistrates to regenerate societ}", re- 
organize states, and to build up nations. ^ It has ever been thus with early 
political growth. Society has been preserved and guided by the unerring 
hand of theocracy. 



ERANCE. 

It would, indeed, be a profitable stud}^, in this connection, to trace the 
progress of France from the earliest dates to its great and changing periods 
of development, and to note the different stages of civilization and the vary- 

1 " This is a glorious and powerful fact," fifth to the thirteenth century, has rendered 
says M. Guizot, " and one which, from the immense services to humanity." 



FEANCE. 47 

ing forms of liberty ; to see the paternal instrumentalities of the church, 
and the long-continued training of feudalism in preparing a barbarous and 
ignorant people, of different origins and habits, for nationality ; to point out 
the gradual and timid rise and bold maturity of royalty, the constantl}' 
changing aspects of aristocrac}^, the mission of the papac}', and the important 
results of the crusades and chivalr}^, — but these are topics only to be glanced 
at, not treated of within the narrow limits of a preliminary chapter. 

Such a course of stud}^ will still develop the great fact, that all forms of 
societ}' , all forms of human action, by whatever name they are known, are 
but tributary streams to the great ocean of democracy. The}^ help to swell 
the mighty flood on whose bosom humanity rests, and b}' whose flowing and 
ebbing tides the ruins of ti^Tanny are to be swept awa}^, and the unspeak^ 
able blessings of freedom to be gathered in. France is a beautiful and pro- 
lific field for the reaper ; and the history of her kings and emperors, her 
bishops, priests, monks, knights, philosophers, statesmen and patriots, 
indicates the progressive changes of power, the growing strength of the 
people, and the ultimate ascendency of democracy. 

De Tocqueville says, — " In France the kings have alwa3'S been the most 
active and the most constant of levellers. When they were strong and am- 
bitious, they spared no pains to raise the people to the level of the nobles ; 
when they were temperate or weak, they allowed the people to rise above 
themselves. Some assisted the democracy by their talents, others by their 
vices. Louis XI, and Louis XIV, reduced every rank beneath the throne to 
the same subjection ; Louis XY, descended, himself and aU his Court, into the 
dust. 

" As soon as land was held on any other than a feudal tenure, and per- 
sonal property began in its turn to confer influence and power, every im- 
provement which was introduced in commerce or manufacture, was a fresh 
element of the equality of conditions. Henceforward every, new discover}", 
every new want which it engendered, and every new desire which craved sat- 
isfaction, was a step toward the universal level. The taste for luxurv, the 
love of war, the sway of fashion, the most superficial as well as the deepest 
passions of the human heart, co-operated to enrich the poor and to impover- 
ish the rich. 

" From the time when the exercise of the intellect became the source of 
strength and of wealth, it is impossible not to consider every addition to 
science, every fresh truth, and every new idea, as a germ of power placed 
within the reach of the people. Poetry, eloquence and memorj-, the grace of 
wit, the glow of imagination, the depth of thought, and all the gifts which 
are bestowed by Providence with an equal hand, turned to the advantage of 
democracy ; and even when they were in possession of its adversaries, they 



48 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

still served its cause b}' throwing into relief the natural greatness of man ; 
its conquests spread, therefore, with those of civilization and knowledge ; 
and literature became an arsenal, where the poorest and weakest could 
always find weapons to their hand. 

" In perusing the pages of our historj', we shall scarcel}^ meet with a sin- 
gle great event, in the lapse of seven hundi-ed years, which has not turned to 
the advantage of equalit}'."! 

Democrac}^ in France has been successivel}^ protected against its conserva- 
tive enem}^, in different shapes, and under divers garbs and names, by its 
own inherent power, being allied with the ma^'ors of the palace, the church, 
the pope, and even with ro3'alt3^ itself. Its own spirit is unchangeable, ap- 
proaching to and receding from the centralization of power, and alternatel}' 
melting despotism and diffusing light to the extremities of societ}^ Its 
principles are found acknowledged in the bulls of the Popes, and set forth 
with remarkable clearness b}^ some of the most distinguished bishops of 
France, and exemplified by practical examples. 

An examination of the capitularies of Charlemagne, Louis le Debonnaire, 
Charles le Chauve, Louis le Beque, Carloman, Eudes and Charles le Simple, 
and the legislation of the succeeding reigns, will discover a gradual 3'ield- 
ing to democratic influence; invariablj^ showing that progress is always in 
proportion to the degree of justice extended to the people. It is not neces- 
sar^'to speak of the special and dictatorial edicts of usurpers, who, while they 
plan oppression for others, prepare for their own destruction and a further ex- 
tension of liberty ; but of the legislation which stands the test of enlightened 
public opinion without respect to part}^, and upon subjects which have ceased 
to be open questions. France, like all other nations, has had its periods of 
t^Tanm' and anarch}-. But these conditions are temporar}-, or apparent, 
and ma}' be regarded as preparatory to a freer play of " the powerful spring 
of democrac}'." ^ 

The spirit of democracy was manifested in the reign of Charlemagne, in 
crushing the remnants of barbarism, and preparing for the people a higher 
f jrm of civilization. We see it in the communes of Cambrai, Laon, Noyon, 
Beauvais and St. Quentin, in the ninth and twelfth centuries. We see it in 
" the revolutions that for eight hundred 3-ears have swept over France, tak- 
ing their rise, b}- feeble and imperceptible gradations, from the foot of Philip's 
throne, and swelling from age to age, to be precipitated in unmeasurable 
proportions into the midst of our own epoch."^ We find it in the teachings 

1 Democracy in America, p. xi. furious," said Napoleon, "but it has some 

2 It was a remark of Mitford, " that de- heart, it may be moved. As to aristocracy, 
mocracy, though a wretched regulator, was it is always cold and unforgiving." 

a powerful spring." "Democracy maybe 3 D^naas. 



FEANCE. 49 

of Hottoman, Lanquet, La Boetie, Rose, Mariana, Bodin and others of the 
sixteenth century. In noticing a work published in 1578, entitled '■'• Le 
Contre Un, ou Discours de la Servitude Volontaire" b}^ Stephen de la Boetie, 
Hallam saj^s, " Roused b}^ the flagitious t3Tann3' of many contemporary rulers, 
and none were worse thanHenry II, under whose reign it was probably written. 
La Boetie pours forth the vehement indignation of a youthful heart, full of the 
love of virtue and of the brilliant illusions which a superficial knowledge of an- 
cient history creates, against the voluntary abjectness of mankind, who submit 
as slaves to one no wiser, no braver, no stronger than any of themselves." His 
language is full of meaning and instruction. He says, — " He who so plays 
the master over 3^ou has but two eyes, has but two hands, has but one body, 
has nothing more than the least among the vast number who dwell in our 
cities ; nothing has he better than you, save the advantage that 3'ou give 
him, that he ma}^ ruin 3'ou. Whence has he so many e^^es to watch 3'ou, but 
that 3^ou give them to him? How has he so many^ hands to strike 3^ou, but 
that he emploj^s your own ? How does lie come b}^ the feet which trample on 
your cities, but hj 3'our means ? How cart he have any power over 3-ou, but 
what 3'ou give him ? How could he venture to persecute 3'ou, if he had not 
an understanding with 3^ourselves B' What harm could he do 3'ou, if 3'ou 
were not receivers of the robber that plunders 3^ou, accomplices of the 
murderer who kills 3^ou, and traitors to your own selves ? You, you sow the 
fruits of the earth, that he mja3^ waste them ; you furnish 3'our houses, that 
he ma3^ i^illage them ; 3'Ou reaa* 3'our daughters, that the3' may glut his wan- 
tonness, and 3^our sons, that he may lead them at the best to his wars, or 
that he ma3^ send them to execution, or make them the instruments of his 
concupiscence, the ministers of his revenge. You exhaust 3^our bodies with 
labor, that he may re-vel in luxur3^, or wallow in base and vile pleasures ; 
3^ou weaken 3'ourselves that he ma3^ become more strong, and better able 
to hold 3^ou in check. And 3'et from so man3^ indignities, that the beasts 
themselves, eould they be conscious of them, would not endure, 3'ou may 
deliver 3'ourselves, if 3'ou but make an effort, not to deliver 3^ourselves, but 
to show the will to do it. Once resolve to be no longer slaves, and 3'ou are 
alread3' free. I do not sa3^ that 3^ou should assail him, or shake his seat ; 
merel3' support him no longer, and 3'Ou will see that, like a gTeat Colossus, 
whose basis has been removed from beneath him, he will fall b3^ his own 
weight, and break to pieces ."^ 

In connecting " the love of virtue with the brilliant illusions which a 
superficial knowledge of ancient history creates," — Hallam failed to dis- 
tinguish between truth and opinion. Whatever has been realized even once 
in the world, and found to be in harmon}^ with God's laws, is truth, ^ When. 

1 Lit. of Europe, Vol. ii, p. 115. 
4 



60 



HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 



confii'ined hy many historical examples, no patriotic expectations, however 
great, either indicate a superficial knowledge of historj-^, or can be denomi- 
nated the illusions of excessive zeal. The peaceful remedy proposed b}^ La 
Boetie, is particularly^ to be noticed and commended as eminentl}' democratic. 
Violence or revolution against a constitutional government is no part of 
democracy. 

What nobler democrats can be found in modern times than the people of 
Laon, in the twelfth century, who, alone, led on to revolution in defence of 
their rights, and struck down their traitor bishop ? Six hundred 3^ears later, 
when the people had acquired a common consciousness of nationality, a com- 
mon pride, and a more general knowledge of their conmaon rights, its 
might}^ power ma}^ be seen rising superior to the accumulated w^eight of oppres- 
sion, and with the terrible fur}^ of popular indignation, upheaving society 
from its very base, and scattering death and desolation throughout the land.^ 



1 The oppressions of government were so 
great that they led the people of France to 
doubt the existence of Deity. They could 
not reconcile a kind and superintending 
Providence Avith so much tyranny and suf- 
fering. The French National Convention, 
October 16, 1793, decreed that " deaihisan 
eteo'nal sleep." The atheism of the people 
did not produce the revolution, but the 
wickedness of the rulers made the people 
atheists. 

"Human thought," says Lamartine, "like 
God, makes the world in its own image. 
Thought was revived by a philosophical 
age. It had to transform the social world. 
The French Revolution was therefore in its 
essence a sublime and impassioned spirit- 
uality. It had a divine and universal ideal. 
This is the reason why its passion spread 
beyond the frontiers of France. Those who 
limit, mutilate it. It was the accession of 
three moral sovereignties : The sovereignty 
of right over force ; the sovereignty of in- 
telligence over prejudices ; the sovereignty 
of people over governments ; revolution in 
rights ; equality. Revolution in ideas ; 
reasoning substituted for authority. Revo- 
lution in facts ; the reign of the people. A 
gospel of social rights. A gospel of duties, 
s, charter of humanity. France declared 
. itself, the apostle of this creed. In this war 



of ideas Fraaice had allies everywhere, and 
even on thrones themselves." — Hist, Gi- 
rondists, Vol. I, p. 19. 

The victories of the French republic were 
celebrated in America. On the 24th Jan- 
uary, 1793, Chandler Robbins, D. D., de- 
livered an address to the inhabitants of 
Plymouth, Mass., assembled to celebrate 
the victories of the French republic over 
their invaders. He selected for a text 
" that remarkable passage " in Daniel, sec- 
ond chapter, twentieth and twenty-first 
verses: '■'■ Blessed he the name of God for 
ever and ever; for wisdom and might are 
his. He cliangeth the times and the sea- 
sons, He removeth kings." At this time 
(1793) Great Britain, Russia, Spain, Prus- 
sia and the Emperor of Germany, made a 
treaty for the purpose, among other things, 
of closing their ports, "and prohibiting the 
exportation of all military or naval stores, 
corn, grain and provisions, from their ports, 
for the ports of France." They further en- 
gaged "to take all other measures in their 
power for injuring the commerce of France," 
&c. — Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. i, p. 177. 

* ' The French Revolution has produced 
incalculable blessings to that country. Be- 
fore that revolution, one-third of the pro- 
perty of the kingdom was in the hands of 
the clergy, the rest in the hands of the 



FHAKCE. 



51 



Again and again, but with abated passion and destructiveness, in 1830 and 
1848,1 France became the field of revolutionary horrors, and the dignity of 
man was asserted by the stern rebukes of democracy. But in the great 
mission of Napoleon, the world was startled at the mighty strides of its 
power, in extending the area of national freedom. What ancient Rome was 
to the world, Alexander to the fourth century (B. C), Charlemagne to the 
ninth (A. D.), Napoleon was to the nineteenth, — an instrument to sever the 
present from the fetters of the past. Insecurity at home, national apathy 
and a growing contempt for the rights of the people among the European 
powers, rendered necessar}^ the scourge of a conqueror, the sway of a despot, 
whose deeds and rule should subdue the insufferable spirit of tjTannj^, and 
teach hereditary sovereigns, resting on the merits of birth, a liberal policy 
and a becoming humility. Such missions benefit a generation, though their 
excesses* are fatal to their projectors.^ The rule of Napoleon had its 
grandeur and great benefits ; yet when he fell, he had ceased to be a friend 
to freedom. 3 



nobility. "Where the interest of one individual 
has been sacrificed, the interest of thousands 
have been promoted. After dining with 
that friend of universal liberty, the patriotic 
La Fayette, he once invited me to walk 
upon the top of his house, that commanded 
a view of all the surrounding country. ' Be- 
fore the revolution,' said he, ' all the farms 
and hamlets you see were mine. I am now 
reduced to a thousand acres ; and I exult in 
the diminution, since the happiness of others 
is promoted by participation.'" — Speech of 
Peter R. Livingston, JV. Y. Hammond's 
FoUt. Hist. N. Y., Vol. ii, p. 45. 

i"The year 1793," says M. Dumas, 
"gave birth to a revolution, but not to a 
republic; this latter word was adopted in 
hatred of royalty, and not as descriptive of 
existing institutions. The revolution of 
1830," he continues, "did not exceed its 
commission ; it attained only what it was 
destined to attain ; it destroyed what it was 
destined to destroy. A revolution believed 
to be new, but which was the offspring of 
1793. A revolution which lasted only three 
days, because it had only the wreck of aris- 
tocracy to exterminate." 

Guizot, in 1849, says with an impatient 



spirit: "We have tried everything: — Re- 
public — Empire — Constitutional Monarchy. 
We are beginning our experiments anew. 
To what must we ascribe their ill success ? 
In our own times, before our OAvn eyes, in 
three of the greatest nations in the world, 
these three forms of government — Consti- 
tutional Monarchy in England, the Empire 
in Russia, and the Republic in North Amer- 
ica — endure and prosper. Have we the 
monopoly of all impossibilities ? " 

2 In twenty-eight years, Alexander the 
Great and all his relations were deceased. 

3 "Napoleon appeared," says M. Dumas, 
" with his twofold propensity for despotism 
and war, — his twofold nature, popular and 
aristocratic. He was behind the ideas of 
France, but in advance of the ideas of Eu- 
rope ; a man of resistance as to his own 
people, but of progression as to others." 

* * " He fell in 1815, and scarcely three 
years had rolled away ere the revolutionary 
fields were ready for the harvest. In 1818, 
the Grand Duchies of Baden and Bavaria 
claimed and obtained a constitution. In 
1819, Wurtemburg claimed a constitution 
and obtained it. In 1820, revolution and 
constitution of Naples and Piedmont. In 



52 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

His spirit still pervades the nation whose glory it was his ambition so long 
to advance. With fever heat it races through the veins of the multitude, 
reviving the glories of the past as painted on the memor^^, and leaps, with 
frenzied dreaming, at objects which weakness fancies, but which genius 
cannot see. 

Who but a blood relation can cure the national epidemic ! — bleed the 
nation, and reduce the vapors of the Napoleonic fever ! stand forth in the 
form and name of the illustrious dead, — substituting imbecility for greatness, 
foll}^ for wisdom, treason for magnanimity, cowardice for merc}'', perjury for 
justice, mockery for a constitution, spies for a press, a guard-house for free- 
dom, an arm}' for patriotism, and a despotism for a church ! Whoever shall 
be able to do this will free the people of France from this blind infatuation 
for deeds without motives, and immortalize himself by being foremost volun- 
taril}^ to help a nation by disgrace and infamy. His elevation 'to power 
would draw all e^^es to the pitiful abortion of a nominal succession without 
the sanction of law, and his fall would be like that of the ignoble remains of 
a rocket, — the frame-work of a departed splendor, divested of its functions 
and returned to the earth in its own inherent darkness. The French nation 
would then be exempted from the entailment of error unaccompanied by 
genius, and democracy would reign triumphant on the continent of Europe. 
The name of Napoleon would still live in the monuments of his glory, but 
the race would be extinct in the ruins of his successor.^ 

France will long be subjected to great changes and revolutions. To great 
contests within and without. They will be terrible and destructive to bear, 
— but they will ultimately prove to be the sources of national strength and 
glory. 

ORIGIN AND GROWTH OF NATIONS. 

In pursuing these remarks touching the origin, growth and peculiarities, 
of different nations, the purpose is, briefly, to afford to the reader such 
hints as will lead him to stud}' principles, and give such illustrations as 
shall tend to show, in some degree, the practical uses of history. Historical 
narrative is not the object. It is but a small matter to know that such men 
as Confucius, Plato, Bacon or Franklin, lived, unless some definite knowledge 
is attained of their respective periods, their sources and means of influence, 

1821, insurrection of the Greeks against things of immense value : within, civil order 

Turkey. In 1823, institution of the states strongly constituted; without, national in- 

in Prussia." dependence firmly established." 

" Democratic France," to use the Ian- i This was written when Louis Napoleon 

guage, of M. Guizot, "owes much to the was proposed as a candidate for the presi- 

Emperor Nappleon. He gave her two dency. 



OBIGIN A2^D GROWTH OF NATIONS. 53 

and a just estimate is made of the value of what they accomplished and of 
what they taught. The same view is true in regard to nations. They are 
embodied in histor}^, and stand as perpetual lessons open to all mankind, and 
should be studied with a distinct and practical object. They should be 
viewed in their beginnings, maturity and change. They should be under- 
stood in their diversity and unity of character, each being regarded as a 
combination of causes, and forming a necessary element, or power, in the 
universal mechanism of humanity. As individuals, they exist successively 
and together, and pass thi'ough the various relations of want and plenty, of 
weakness, strength and independence, subserving the beneficent purposes of 
Deity, and leaving their indestructible results to be gathered and continued 
by the races which are to follow them. 

It is a remark of Hume, that " those Who cast their eye on the general 
revolutions of society will find that, as almost all improvements of the human 
mind had reached nearly to their state of perfection about the age of Augus- 
tus, there was a sensible decline from that point or period, and men thence- 
forth relapsed gradually into ignorance and barbarism." 

With all deference be it said, such views are calculated to mislead. They 
indicate haste, carelessness, or a defective philosoph}^ To suppose that 
barbarism necessarily follows the highest state of improvement of which the 
human mind is capable, would be fatal to the admission of the fundamental 
and acknowledged principles of progress. It is a superficial view of the 
subject, and the error arises from failing to distinguish between the real and 
apparent aspects of society. He commits an error both in fact and in philos- 
ophy. He asserts the perfection of a very imperfect people, and assumes the 
fact as the ultimate cause of barbarism. The contrary proposition is more 
in accordance with the nature of man and the teachings of history ; for 
nations decline in consequence of their ignorance and imperfections, 
their periods being limited or extended according to the degree of their 
obedience to the natural laws. The dissolution of a nation is the yielding 
of an inferior to a superior power, and may be regarded as the transition 
state of man from a lower to a higher civilization. But this point has been 
illustrated in another place. 



ENGLAND. 

The beginning and the gradual growth of England aflTord one of the most 
instructive chapters in history. It particularly belongs to the subject under 
discussion. A territory removed from the changing turmoils and inroads of 
a variously populated continent ; surrounded b}" the depths of a vast ocean, 
and fortified by its cliflfe, and its shelving strands ; possessing a soil, a 



54 HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 

climate and a vegetation, adapted to the wants of man ; a hardy people of 
native vigor and rude simplicity, favored by possessions which moved the 
ferocious spu'it of the pii-ate, and fired the ambition of warriors, whose wild 
and lofty conceptions sought to command the tides and to charge the surges 
of the sea, — ancient Britain became a field for contest, a site for a mighty 
nation.! The isolated position of the island^ exempted it from the inferior 
portions of the tribes of a continent, and only tempted the bold and migra- 
tory bands of adventurers from abroad. However insignificant it may seem 
to have been, as represented by historians, all admit that it was sufficiently 
important to tempt great Caesar, — and it was confessed by the conquering 
army that the inhabitants of the island made a brave and formidable 
resistance. 

At this time, it was estimated by the Komans that there were about forty 
tribes on the island. Each tribe had its chief, and enjoyed an independence 
based upon its courage and resources of physical strength. For about five 
hundred j^ears, Britain remained a Roman province. During this period, it 
was subjected to a series of trials, calculated to develop, in an extraordinary 
degree, all the energies and resources of the human mind. 

Ruled by a foreign power, divided among themselves, surrounded by the 
Picts, Scots, Welsh and Irish, and constantly liable to incursions of the 
Saxons, Danes and Normans, — barbarians who deemed peace disgraceful, — 
the}' were impelled alike by their domestic and foreign relations to guard 
against enemies from every quarter, and gradually to study and to under- 
stand the means, the safet}^, and the necessity of union. 

It was said by Sir Benjamin E-udyard, in the British Parliament, in 1642, 
that England could not engage in a war as they could on the continent, for 
they had " to fight in a cock-pit, and were surrounded by the sea."^ This 
necessit}' proved to be the source of national streng-th and deeply-marked 
identity to England ; and the island may be regarded with more justice as 
the nursery of nations than as a cock-pit to fight in.'* 



1 "Ninety years after the expedition of It is said that Canute, in the zenith of his 

Caesar (A. D. 36), the Britons seemed to be greatness, in the eleventh century, seated 

threatened by Cahgula, at the head of an himself in a chair, in the midst of his 

army on the coast of Gaul. But that giddy courtiers, on the sea-shore, and, as the 

youth, intoxicated by boundless power, greatest of sea-kings, commanded the tide, 

seeking only an occasion for one of his which Avas flowing, not to advance toward 

most insane freaks, commanded his troops him. — Ih., p. 35. 

to charge the ocean, and to load themselves ^ Britain was discovered to be an island 

with shells, which were the ornaments of A. D. 85. 

his triumpli over that boisterous enemy, on ^ "We must fight as in a cock-pit; we 

his entrance into Eome." — History of are surrounded with the sea. We have no 

England^ hy Sir James Mackintosh, p. 16. stronger holds than our own skulls and own 



ENGLAND. 55 

The conquest of the Britons b}^ Csesar gave them an idea of a superior 
state of society, of an efficient government in unity, of national relations, of 
new means of warfare ; and the growing importance of a ceaseless vigi- 
lance led them to adopt habits of the utmost activity, to discover new agents 
of power, and new means of defence. The insular situation of Britain so 
often tempted the commander to assume the purple, that it was called an 
island fertile in usurpers. i 

As character was advanced by the continual exercise of a prudential 
system, and the impulses of a rude ambition, the number of petty tribes and 
chiefs was reduced, and leaders of enlarged views were placed in j^ower. 
The consecrated groves of the Druids, which had so long resounded with the 
cries of human victims, were cut down, and the cromlech gave way to an 
altar reared to the Lord. The Pope asserted his rule, and raised the stand- 
ard of the cross ; a higher religion prevailed, and Britain ceased to be a 
province. The Saxon with his title to nobilit}^, the Dane with his skill and 
cunning, and the Norman with his pomp, power and refinements, came, at 
different intervals, to subdue and be subdued, and reduced to elements of the 
English race and character. Thus England may be traced from her ancient 
tribes of Britain to kingdoms, from kingdoms to the Heptarchy, from the 
Heptarch}^ to the monarchy of Egbert, from the Saxon rule to that of William 
the Conqueror, and thence to the contests with Scotland, Ireland and Wales, 
up to the period of union. Every period illustrates new strength, and a 
broader platform for humanity. 

With William came feudalism, that schoolmaster of nations, classifjdng 
people, as teachers classify pupils, for drill and discipline. ^ 

These several stages of advancement have been pointed out, to show how 
slow is the growth of a nation, how various are the causes necessary to 
mature its character ; and with a desire to persuade the reader to turn to 
these periods of history, that he ma}^ see the gradual, though certain, yield- 
ing of the conservative to the democratic part3\ 

Although Hume regards the period of the Heptarch}" as a barren one, 
and hardly worthy to be studied, yet there is enough in it to illustrate the vari- 
ous principles which are ever discoverable as the active means of progress. 
In the history of the reduction of the kingdoms of Kent, Northumberland, East- 
Anglia, Mercia, Essex and Sussex, to the kingdom of Wessex, under Egbert, 

ri]:)s, to keep out enemies ; so that the whole about A. D. 600. William the Conqueror 

kingdom will suddenly be but one flame." — extended the system, and divided England 

Pari. Del., Vol. hi, p. 80. into sixty thousand two hundred and fifteen 

military fiefs, all held of the crown, the 
^ Sir James Mackintosh. „ , . , t_i- j ^^« 

possessors of which were obliged, under 

2 Feudal laws were introduced into Eng- pain of forfeiture, to take up arms and re- 
land, to a limited extent, by the Saxons, pair to his standard on the first signal. 



66 HISTOKY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the diversified causes of success are seen, and the neglects which lead to dis- 
solution and decay. A fflance at the history of the subsequent power and 
events of England will discover similar but more important results. 

The gradual progress of knowledge leads to the conventional or revolu- 
tionar}' progress of rights. The sovereignty of a nation is based upon a 
government endowed with prerogatives for self-protection, and invested with 
sufficient power to secure equal rights and justice to the people. ^ These 
rights become classified according to the knowledge and condition of the 
people who are to be the subjects of them. They may be subdivided for pur- 
poses of individual aggrandizement or oppression, or with motives to security 
against usurpation, or centralization of power. The former subdivision 
takes place in periods of ignorance, when men are incapable of extended 
action or training, as in the times of feudalism ; and the latter, when they 
become enlightened, and have enlarged conceptions of the great interests of 
humanity, and are impelled by ambitious motives to excel, or by a sense of 
dut}' to provide all requisite means for their advancement or protection. 

During the reign of Alfred, England was divided into counties, the trades 
of building houses and ships were introduced, schools were established, 
learned men were invited to become residents from other countries, a code 
of laws was prepared providing for the trial by jur}^, and other improvements 
were attempted of a social and moral nature ; but these endeavors to elevate 
a rude and ignorant people were but the germs of civilization, to be matured 
and developed in subsequent generations. Alfred stood almost alone in the 
great work of reform ; and though his immediate successors did not appar- 
entl}' accomplish much, still his reign constituted an important element 
among the means of future advancement. 

After feudalism had accomplished its work, and the people of England 
were fitted to become subjects of a king or citizens of a nation, they were 
claimed as vassals by the nobilit}^ ; and hence the bloody wars of the barons 
against their legitimate sovereigns. It was the reluctant, though necessary 
yielding of numerous petty sovereignties, which were inconsistent with the 
sovereignty of a nation, on the basis which has been stated. Details are left 

1 In a debate in the House of Commons, to this question, for I know not what it is. 
1028, on the Petition of Right, Mr. Alford All our petition is for the laws of England, 
said, "Let us look into the records, and see and this power seems to be another dis- 
what they are; what is * Sovereign Power'? tinct power from the power of the law. I 
Bodin saith, That it is free from any condi- know how to add sovereign to the king's 
tions. By this we shall acknowledge a person, but not to his power ; and we can- 
regal as well as legal power. Let us give not ' leave ' to him a ' sovereign power ; ' 
that to the king the law gives him, and no for we never were possessed of it," &c. — 
more." Pari. Deh.^ Vol. ii, p. 356. 

Mr. Pym said, "I am not able to speak 



PKOTECTORATE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. 57 

to be sought from works of history. Allusion can only be made to some of 
the great events in the beginning, or in the results of important eras. It 
might be interesting to speak of the Papal controversies, of the rule and 
abolition of Papacy in England ; of foreign invasions, of domestic wars, of 
assemblies resembling Parliaments, of holy leagues, of the teachings of 
Wickliffe, the plans and plots of Wat Tyler, Jack Cade, Guy Faux, and many 
other similar combinations, as affording singular and remarkable examples of 
party zeal and hate : but the limits of this work again admonish us to be 
content with a more general survey, and we proceed briefly to consider the 
Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. 



PROTECTORATE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. 

A national event is the result of a great diversity of causes. These causes 
are sometimes of a remote as well as of recent origin. In alluding, there- 
fore, to the reign of Charles the First, and to the Protectorate of Cromwell, 
reference is made to cause and effect, or to events which stand in that relation. 
The arbitrary and unconstitutional government of Charles led to the bold 
and unconstitutional measures of CromweU. Not that the one justifies the 
other, but helps to explain it. 

Something may be learned by noting the peculiarities of these two men, 
and by following them in their public acts and influences. Charles was 
evidentl}^ ignorant of the people whom he was called upon to govern ; no 
man understood them and their wants better than Cromwell. Charles was 
unfortunate in his advisers ; Cromwell had been trained in the practical 
school of the democratic party, and felt confirmed in his positions of duty, 
not onl}^ by some of the purest patriots i of the nation, but by his own strong 

1 John Milton was Latin secretary to was lent by Thomas Hollis to the Earl of 

Cromwell. Sir Heneage Finch said, in Chatham, who thus acknowledges the 

Parliament (December 17, 1660,) that Mil- favor: ''What thanks to Mr. Hollis can be 

ton " deserved hanging." — Pari. Z>c&.,iv., enough, for giving to read immortal Bucha- 

p. 162. The University of Oxford ordered nan, *■ De Jure ^e^rm,* a volume, small in 

the political works of Buchanan, Milton and bulk, but big in matter ; even all the length 

Baxter, to be publicly burned in the court and breadth, and depth and height, of ' that 

of the schools. George Buchanan was great argument,' which the first geniuses 

born in Scotland in 1506, and died in 1582. and master spirits of the human race have 

He was the author of the celebrated com- asserted so nobly ! From him, ceu fonte 

pendium of political philosophy, entitled perenni, they have all drunk ; and happiest 

^' De Jure Regni" -puhlishedi in 1579. "It who has drunk the deepest! How due the 

was principally composed," it is said, " with honors paid to such a name! Freedom 

a view to instruct his royal pupil, afterward looks down, well pleased, upon the happy 

James the First of England, in what be- spot, to contemplate the truest of her sons, 

longed to Ms office. " In 1773 — this volume strewing the pious oak leaf over the deathless 



58 HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 

convictions. 1 Charles was inconsiderate in his demands, and unscrupulous 
in the choice of means to attain his ends ; Cromwell had the zeal of a secta- 
rian, and military firmness as a politician to resist oppression, and did not 
hesitate to employ an available force to effect what he deemed to be for the 
good of a nation. Charles regarded the prerogatives of royalty as para- 
mount to the rights of the people, and claimed a confidence in advance of 
performance ; Cromwell counted the people as superior to the king as the 
source of power, and first entitled to be trusted by courtesy. Charles 
looked upon Parliament as a party to be gained to royalty, and Cromwell 
claimed it as the government of the people. Charles forgot the constitution, 
and became angry with his Parliament because they opposed his ill-advised 
requisitions ; Cromwell saw no safety in a king, or in a Parliament against 
law, and supplanted both. Charles had given the nation ample reasons to 
doubt his purposes, and the value of his judgment, by a reign of injustice 
and oppression for above twenty years ; and, during the same period, Crom- 
well had proved his title to considerations of confidence and respect, by a 
uniform course of usefulness. ^ If Cromwell controlled the army, whose 
tendencies were democratic,^ Charles controlled more dangerous men, whose 
counsel was subversive of the constitution. If the friends of Charles claimed 
support because he was king, the people favored Cromwell because he con- 
tended for their rights.^ If Charles saw an usurper in Cromwell, Cromwell 

memory of the long-departed Buchanan." does the event afford any evidence of the 

— Cor. Earl Chatham, iv, p. 286. Sir divine right of kings ? 

James Mackintosh spoke of Buchanan in 2 Cromwell sat in the Long Parliament 

the highest terms of respect. In him royal- ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Cambridge, and concurred 

ty had a democratic teacher more than a ^-^^^ ^^^^ assembly in restoring silenced 

hundred years before Cromwell was born. j^jnisters; in the impeachment of Straf- 

ford, Laud, and other civil and ecclesiasti- 

1 It is said that if the government had ^^^ delinquents; inputting an end to the 

refused to make concessions to the liberal ^^^^^^ ^^ gj^j^ Commission and the Star 

party, before the period of his power, chamber; in passing the triennial bill ; and 

Cromwell had decided to sell his property j^ adopting its resolutions concerning pro- 

and emigrate to New England. Hutchinson clamations, ship-money, and the duties at 

says, after speaking of several persons who ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^ _ yaughan^s Cromwell, Vol. 

decided, in 1635, to emigrate to Massachu- , _ oq 

I, p. Z6. 

setts, adds, " and many other persons of 

_ ....... .-,, 2 See Petition of Army to Parliament. — 

figure and distmction were expected to come '' 

^ , . , 'A ir \, u Pari. Del)., Vol. hi, p. 1563. 

over, some of which are said to have been 

prevented by express order of the King, as ^ "But the bold democratic temper mani- 

Mr. Pym, Mr. Hampden, Sir Arthur Has- fested by a large portion of the army was 

terigg, Oliver Cromwell, &c." — Hist. Mass. not content with the death of the king. 

Vol. I, p. 44. During the next four months it required the 

If the king unconsciously provided means most decisive measures on the part of the 

to secure his own death, it may be asked, Parliament, and all the promptitude and 



PROTECTOEATE OF OLIVER CROMWELL. 



59 



protested against the acts of a perjured king. Charles mangled the Parlia- 
ment, and the army of Cromwell removed its remains. In Charles we have 
an example how much good a king may avoid, and in Cromwell how much 
good a subject may accomplish. Charles attempted to sail the ship of state 
on a dangerous coast, without a responsible pilot, involved in a mutiu}' of 
factions ; ^ Cromwell took the helm, dropped the anchor, and waited for a new 
chart to sail hy. Charles claimed to act as king only under the authority of 
God ; 2 Cromwell had faith in God that the people would be protected. Both 
were acting without the consent of the nation ; but it must be considered 
that, while one, in violation of the oath of a sovereign, was heedless of its 
true interests, the other was guilt}^ only of the assumption of power to save 
them. If Cromwell was " a scourge of God," ^ Charles had prepared the 
nation for its infliction ; and if Charles was mild as a t^'rant, Cromwell was 
moderate as a despot. Charles was beheaded to insure justice to the people ; 
the bones of Cromwell were gibbeted to insure existence to royalty .^ Both the 
king and Cromwell sought to be directed, in prayer, by the Divine will, though 
neither was inclined to obey if he could have his own. Both acted, and 
pra^^ed for the people. The one signed the order to the executioner because 
another could not be persuaded to do it,^ and the other submitted to execu- 



vigor that Eairfax and Cromwell could bring 
to the enterprise, to suppress the mutinous 
detachments which presented themselves in 
different parts of the country." — Vaughan's 
Cromwell, Vol. i, p. 78. 

"Cromwell and his officers," says Lord 
Clarendon, "took upon them to preach and 
pray publicly to their troops ; and the com- 
mon soldiers, as well as the officers, did not 
only pray and preach among themselves, 
but went into the pulpits in all the churches 
and preached to the people, who quickly be- 
came inspired with the same spirit, women 
as well as men taking upon them to preach, 
pray," «S:c. — Vol. v, p. 42. 

"I am to tell thee. Christian reader," 
says Dr. Eeatley, — in his preface to his 
"Dipper Dipped," published in 1647, p. 1, 
— "this new year of new changes, never 
heard of in former ages ; namely, of stables 
turned into temples (and I will beg leave to 
add, temples turned into stables, as was 
that of St. Paul's and many more), stalls 
into quires, shop-boards into communion- 
tables, tubs into pulpits, aprons into linen 
ephods, and mechanics of the lowest rank 



into priests of the high places," &c. — Pari. 
Deb., Vol. hi, p. 1231. 

1 Pari. Deb., Vol. ii, p. 660. 

2 lb., p. 434. 

3 It was the common remark in Paris, 
that Mazarin, the prime minister of Louis 
XIV, "had less fear of the devil than of 
Oliver Cromwell." 

* Resolutions for taking up the bodies of 
Cromwell, &c., were passed December 8, 
1660. The order, as entered in both the 
journals, stands thus, namely : — " Resolved 
by the Lords and Commons assembled in 
Parliament, That the carcasses of Oliver 
Cromwell, Henry Ireton, John Bradshaw, 
Thomas Pride (whether buried in Westmin- 
ster' Abbey, or elsewhere), be, with all ex- 
pedition, taken up, and drawn upon a hurdle 
to Tyburn, and there hanged up in their 
coffins for some time, and after that buried 
under the said gallows," &c. — Pari. Bei.j 
Vol. IV, p. 158. This order was executed 
January 30, 1661; and "their heads were 
afterward set upon poles on the top of 
Westminster Hall." 

5 " Colonel," said Cromwell to Huncks, 



60 



HISTORY OF DEMOCEACY. 



tion, as the mart}T of the people," though the people did not interpose to 
save him.i " The nation," sa^'s Macaulay, " which loved neither of the 
contending parties, but which was forced, in its own despite to respect the 
capacit}' and resolution of the general, looked on with patience, if not with 
complacenc}^" ^ 

But charity should be exercised towards both, — for Charles, in badly 
characterizing his age, and for Cromwell, in being a subject of it. Both men 
were surrounded by factions ; both formed coalitions for power, without 
reference to principles ; and both sought for permanent rule, and both failed 
of success. 

And yet this age was a spring season of humanitj^ The seed scattered 
b}^ the reformers of the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, had 
germinated, and began to put forth a hardy growth of principles. 

The oaks of freedom had begun to drop their acorns, and the Puritans 3 



"it is you who must write and sign it." 
Huncks obstinately refused. "What a stub- 
born grumbler," said Cromwell. '* Col. 
Huncks," said Axtell, "I am ashamed of 
you; the ship is coming into tha harbor, 
and will you strike sail before we come to 
anchor ? " Huncks persisted in his refusal ; 
Cromwell muttering between his teeth, sat 
down, wrote the order himself and presented 
it to Col. Hacker who signed it without ob- 
jection." — Guizofs English Revolution^ p. 
431. 

1 Just before execution, the king, in allu- 
sion to the offers formerly made to him by 
the army, concluded a brief speech in these 
words : — " Sirs, it was for the liberties of 
the people that I am come here. If I would 
have assented to an arbitrary sway, to have 
all things changed according to the power 
of the sword, I need not to have come 
hither ; and therefore I tell you (and I pray 
God it be not laid to your charge), that I 
am the martyr of the people." — Lingard's 
England, Vol. viii, p. 114. 

2 Hist. Eng. Vol. i, p. 123. 

8 Dr. Burwell, in a brief speech on the 
"Bill for granting ease to Dissenters," dis- 
cussed in Parliament, 1672-3, said, "^ 
Puritan was ever a rebel." — Pari. Deb., 
Vol. IV, p. 574. In 1640, Dr. Chaflto 



added to the litany these words : " From all 
lay- Puritans, and all lay Parliament-men, 
good Lord deliver me." The doctor having 
been sent for, by the sergeant-at-arms, the 
question was put to Parliament whether, for 
these words, he should be committed pris- 
oner to the tower. The house decided in 
the negative, 190 against 189. It was 
ordered, however, that he should be called 
to the bar and receive a sharp reprehension 
and admonition, and be required to make 
public explanation. 

" The Puritans," says Bancroft (Vol. i, 
p. 296), "desired permission occasionally 
to assemble, and, at their meetings, to have 
the liberty of free discussions ; but the king, 
prompt to discover that concessions in re- 
ligion would be followed by greater political 
liberty, interrupted the petition. ' You are 
aiming at a Scot's presbytery, which agrees 
with monarchy as well as God and the devil. 
Then Jack, and Tom, and Will, and Dick, 
shall meet, and at their pleasure censure me 
and my council, and all our proceedings. 
Then Will shall stand up and say, It must 
be thus; then Dick shall reply, and say. 
Nay, marry, but we will have it thus ; and, 
therefore, here I must once more reiterate 
my former speech, and say, Le roi s'avisera, 
— the king alone shall decide.' Turning to 



PROTECTORATE OP OLIVER CROMWELL. 



61 



were born to scatter them in a distant soil. The Presbyterians, with their 
organized strength; the Independents, breathing their lofty individuality ;^ 
the Baptists, asserting their rites of purity ; and the Quakers, moved by a 
brotherly love, — came forward, each to claim the ascendency, and all to 
oppose the national church and the papacy .^ Resting upon the broad and 
holy basis of the Bible, government became the prerogative of each ; man, 
the subject of redemption ; liberty, the atmosphere of the soul ; and the 
world, the great battle-field for victory. There seemed to be no home but in 
the bosom of God, no safety but in the harness prepared for a holy war, and 
no happiness but in the faith which each proposed, and all endeavored to 
establish and promulgate. What elements for society, what pioneers for 
progress, what instruments to be tuned and harmonized by a government, 
and what subjects to honor a king ! Each claimed the favor and sunshine 
of Heaven, and all appeared to realize the strength and majestic presence of 
Deity. Zeal became patriotism, and toleration treason. Charit}" was trans- 
formed into indulgence, and hope into a wicked dream. All war was abhor- 



the bishops, he avowed his belief that the 
hierarchy was the firmest support of the 
throne. Of the Puritans, he added, 'I will 
make them conform, or I will hurry them 
out of the land, or else worse, — only hang 
them, that's all." 

^ The Presbyterians and Independents 
were nearly equally divided in Parliament, 
at one time. In a test vote, in the Com- 
mons, 1648, they stood fifty-seven each, 
and the speaker turned the scale. — Pari. 
Deb., YoL. Ill, p. 959. 

" Another party, called ^Hhe fifth mon- 
archy men" are thus noticed by Archdea- 
con E chard; "while the affairs of the 
nation seemed to be in peace and tranquil- 
lity, in the beginning of the new year 1660-1, 
there happened a strange and unparalleled 
action in London, which strengthened the 
belief of those secret plots and conspiracies 
mentioned by the Lord Chancellor. " — 
Pari. Del., Vol. iv, p. 186. This was 
occasioned by a small body of Fifth-mon- 
archy men, who, hating all monarchy and 
the appearance of it, had formerly made an 
attempt against Cromwell's government, but 
escaped beyond expectation. The head of 
them was one Thomas Venner, some time a 



wine-cooper, who, by the king's indulgence, 
held a conventicle in Coleman street, wliere 
he and others used to preach to them out 
of the Prophecies of Daniel and the Reve- 
lation, and from thence drew strange infer- 
ences, persuading their congregations "to 
take up arms for King Jesus, against the 
powers of the earth, the king, the Duke of 
York, General Monk," &c., assuring them 
"that no weapons formed against them 
should prosper, nor a hair of their heads be 
touched ; for one should chase a thousand, 
and two put ten thousand to flight," &c., &c. 
They declared war against the whole world, 
particularly against all monarchies. 

When Cromwell was accused by Major 
Streater — "that he intended to set up 
himself, and that it was a betraying of 
their most glorious cause, for which so 
much blood had been spilt," — he was de- 
fended by Harrison, who said, — " That he 
was assured the General did not seek him- 
self in it, but did it to make way for the 
rule of Jesus, that he might have the scep- 
tre." "Well," replied Streater, "Christ 
must come before Christmas, or else he will 
come too late." — GuizoVs Cromwell, Vol. 
I, p. 304. 



62 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

rent to the Quaker, but that of opinion, — all peace sinful to others, but that 
of conformity. A thousand kings could not control such a nation in unity, 

— a thousand Cromwells could not restrain the terrible volcanoes of its 
diversity. 1 

But, in considering the period of Cromwell, the errors of isolation must 
not be committed. Between the identity of a nation and that of an individ- 
ual there is a general similitude. Individual identity is connected with the 
exercise of the same faculties, during their different periods of development, 
in the attainment of skill and knowledge. The identity of a nation admits 
of the enlargement of powers already possessed, — of new powers to be 
acquired, as well as the practical results of a previous experience. It is of 
an accumulative, as well as of a distributive character. Old laws, based 
upon error, or rendered nugatory by change, are repealed b}" legislation, or 
b}' moral consent, and new laws take their place.^ The new laws of a peo- 
ple are the true index of their progress. The great questions in regard to 
the rights and happiness of man are perpetual ; and on most of these, nations, 
as well as individuals, are, and ever will be, divided. Not that the same 
questions are continued in a permanent form, but they arise in new proposi- 
tions of a narrowed ignorance or of an enlarged philosoph}^ The develop- 
ment of principles is followed by a condition in conformit3^ If religious 
toleration be favored, it will be protected in the same degree in which it is 
understood. If civil libert}'' be appreciated, its OAvn inherent spirit extends 
its S3^mpathies and fortifies its domain. As the area of freedom is extended, 
its guardians and their duties are multiplied. Society is its medium, and 
man the form of its manifestation. Nations are the aggregates of its power, 
and progress the unchangeable law of its will. Thus the attainments of the 
few become the attainments of the man^^, and what is mastered by the indi- 
vidual is extended to the masses. 

1 Ludlow's one idea was, " that the nation class organizes a party to advance or de- 
should be governed by its own consent." fend their own special interests. 
Cromwell replied, *' I am as much for gov- 
ernment by consent as any man ; but where 2 The acts of Parliament were first pro- 
shall we find that consent ? — amongst the mulgated, 16 John, 1215. For a great 
Prelatical, Presbyterian, Independent, Ana- period of years the number of acts passed 
baptist, or Levelling parties ? " To this has been annually large. Between the 4th 
question his opponent had no satisfactory and 10th of George the Fourth, one thousand 
answer to return, and it pointed to a diffi- one hundred and twenty-six acts were wholly 
culty which overwhelmed the republican repealed, and four hundred and forty-three 
party as soon as they began to deal with it. repealed in part. Of these acts, one thou- 

— Vaughan's Cromivell^ Vol. i, p. 100. sand three hundred and forty-four related 
When governments fail in duty, parties be- to the kingdom at large, and two hundred 
come numerous. The people suffier and and twenty-five to Ireland solely. — Wo^'ld's 
they are unable to explain the cause — each Progress^ p. 148. 



PEOTECTOEATE OF OLIVEE CEOMWELL. 63 

Every age has its appropriate characters in men who produce and control 
the events of their period. Not that events endow men with sagacity, or 
combine fortuitously to control intelligence, but that men give birth to events 
characterized by their peculiar motives, aims and genius. The ages of the 
world are marked by the action of mind, or by the want of it. It may be an 
age of greatness or littleness ; of strength or weakness ; of activity* or inert- 
ness ; of virtue or vice ; of piety or irreligion ; of wisdom or folly ; of thought 
or passion, or fanaticism ; of knowledge or ignorance ; of justice or wicked- 
ness ; of government or revolution ; of peace or war ; of unity or diversity ; 
of success or failure. Whatever it is — there will be found in it a corres- 
pondence of cause and effect, and whatever is produced is provided with 
inherent elements of conduct and control. It is to be remembered that how- 
ever separately or combined these elements may appear in man or society, — 
individual responsibility is alwaj^s the same. Cause and effect can never be 
Beparated. and the deeds of men are indissolubly linked with their conse- 
quences. 

This was a period of talent, passion and revolution.^ Conflicting opinions 
and plans of government arrogating an origin in Deit}', and urged with a 
hol}^ zeal, — made it a period of difficult}-. When men assume to represent 
God, human wisdom is of no avail. Speaking of the Long Parliament, an 
intelligent writer^ says, — " Never was there a greater array of talent and 
patriotism in an English Parliament." Lord Clarendon admits that " there 
were many great and worthy patriots in the house, and as eminent as any 
age had ever produced." Even Hume, apparentl}^ amazed at the impotenc}^ 
of ro^-alt}'' to withstand the popular tide, is willing to declare that.^ — " This 
was the time, when genius and capacit}' of all kinds, freed from the restraint 
of authority-, and nourished b}- unbounded hopes and projects, began to exert 
themselves, and to be distinguished b}^ the public. There was the celebrated 
sagacit}^ of Pym^ more fitted for use than ornament ; matured, not chilled, 

lit is admitted by Hume, that "the Among the distinguished thinkers and 

speeches of the parfiamentary orators, dur- authors of England of this period may be 

ing tliis period, are of a strain much supe- mentioned, — Milton, Harrington, Hobbes, 

rior to what any former age had produced Harvey, Clarendon, Cowley, Waller, Sel- 

in England ; and the force and compass of den, Ainsworth, Atterbury, Barclay, Barrow, 

our tongue were then first put to trial. It Baxter, Biddle, Boyle, Browne, Bunyan, 

must, however, be confessed, that the Butler, Cudworth, Elliot, Flavel, Fletcher, 

wretched fanatacism, which so much in- Geo. Fox, Hale, Leighton, Earl of Shaftes- 

fected the parliamentary party, was no less bury, Sidney, South, Jeremy Taylor, Tem- 

destructive of taste and science, than of all pie, Tillotson, Vane, 
law and order. Gayety and wit were pro- 

scribed ; human learning despised ; freedom ' Puritans and their principles, by Edwin 

of inquiry detested ; cant and hypocrisy alone "-^^^^ P- ^^^' 

encouraged." — Hist. Eng. Vol. v, p. 528. ^ lb. 



64 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

b}' his advancing age and long experience. There was Hampden, sup- 
ported b}' courage, conducted b}' prudence, embellished by modest}'." 
'' There was Selden," we quote from Edwin Hall, "whose name will ever be 
considered as one of the ornaments of English history. There was Cromwell ; 
and whatever else may be said of him, this, at least, will scarcely be dis- 
})uted, that never was the sceptre of England wielded by a more vigorous 
or sagacious hand. His protectorship, compared with an}- preceding age, or 
with several ages succeeding, was an era of toleration, justice and law. 
Weakened as she was by the civil wars, England rose to respect and gi'eat- 
ness abroad ; and foreign t3'rants and persecutors trembled at Cromwell's 
name. At one word from Cromwell, the persecutions against the Waldenses 
ceased. 1 The Duke of Savoy and Cardinal Mazarin gnashed their teeth 
with rage ; but with the whole power of France at command, they durst not 
raise a finger more against the Waldenses while Cromwell lived. 'All 
Ital}',' sa3's Bishop Burnet, ' trembled at the name of Cromwell, and seemed 
under a panic as long as he lived. His fleet scoured the Mediterranean ; 
and the Turks,' (who had been the terror of Europe), 'durst not offend 
him." ' The men of secondary rank in that Parliament,' continues Hall, 
as Hetherington has well remarked, ' were possessed of talents and energy 
enough to ha^-e earned a high renown in any period less prodigal of human 
power.' 

" Whoever reads the history of these times," says Prof. Smj'th, " cannot 
well believe that this military usurper, daring and powerful as his abilities 
were, both in the cabinet and in the field, could possibly have succeeded, if 
the religious principle had not unfortunately found its wa}^ into every part 
of the dispute between the king and his people, and so disturbed the natural 
tendenc}' of things, as to render any achievement practicable, which could 
well be conceived by a man of military skill and fanaticism united."^ 

" The government of Cromwell," saj's Macaulay, " though in form a 
republic, was in truth a despotism, moderated only by the wisdom, the 

1 The persecution of this sect in the be- ing powers to march into the heretical dis- 
ginning of the 13tli century led to the estab- trict. All obstinate heretics were placed at 
lishment of the Holy Office or Inquisition, the disposal of Simon de Montfort, corn- 
Pope Innocent III, had commissioned some mander of this crusade, and the whole race 
monks to preach against the heresies of the of the Waldenses and Albigenses were 
Waldenses in Narbonne and Provence ; but ordered to be pursued with fire and sword, 
the Catholic bishops were at first jealous of Neither sex, age, nor condition was spared ; 
this mission, armed as it was with great the country became a wilderness, and the 
power, and the feudal chiefs refused to obey towns heaps of smoking; ruins.. Such was 
the orders of tlie legates, A. D. 1203-4. the era of the inquisition. Dominic de 
One of the monks, the first inquisitor, Peter Guzman was constituted: first inquisitor- 
Chateauneuf, having been assassinated, the general, 1208.. — World's P^'ogress, p. 585. 
aspiring pontiff called on all the neighbor- 2. Lgct-uro xvn, Mod^srn: History, p. 285. 



PKOTECTOEATE OF OLXVEP. CROMWELL. 65 

sober-mindedness, and the magnanimity of the despot. The country was 
divided into military districts ; those districts were placed under the com- 
mand of major generals." * * " While he lived his power stood firm, an 
object of mingled aversion, admiration, and dread to his subjects. Few, 
indeed, loved his government ; but those who hated it most, hated it less than 
they feared it. Had it been a worse government, it might, perhaps, have been 
overthrown in spite of all its strength. Had it been a weaker government, 
it would certainly have been overthrown in spite of all its merits. But it 
had moderation enough to abstain from those oppressions which drive men 
mad ; and it had a force and energy which none but men driven mad by 
oppression would venture to encounter." 

Dr. Lingard says, — " It cannot be supposed that this elevation of Crom- 
well to the supreme power was viewed with satisfaction bj^any other class of 
men than his brethren in arms, who considered his greatness their own work^ 
and expected from his gratitude their merited reward. But the nation was 
surfeited with revolutions. Men had suffered so severel}^ from the ravages 
of war and the oppression of the military,* they had seen so many instances 
of punishment incurred by resistance to the actual possessors of power ; 
they were divided and subdivided into so manj^ parties, jealous and hateful 
of each other ; that they readily acquiesced in any change which promised 
the return of tranquillity in the ]3lace of solicitude, danger and misery. The 
protector, however, did not neglect the means of consolidating his own 
authorit}^"^ * * '^ Exposed as he was to the continued machinations of 
the royalists and Levellers, both equally eager to precipitate him from the 
height to which he had attained, Cromwell made it his great object to secure 
to himself the attachment of the array. To it he owed the acquisition ; 
through it alone could he insure the permanence of his power. Now, fortu- 
nately, for this purpose, that army, composed as never was arm}' before or 
since, revered in the lord-protector what it valued mostly in itself, the cant 
and practice of religious enthusiasm.. The superior officers, the subalterns, 
the privates, all held themselves forth as professors of godliness." * * 
" Their cause they considered the cause of God ; if the}' fought, it was for 
his glory ; if they conquered, it was by the might of his arm. Among 
these enthusiasts, Cromwell, as he held the first place in rank, was also pre- 
eminent in spiritual gifts. The fervor with which he prayed, the unction 
with which he preached, excited their admiration and tears."^ 

" Some writers," continues I>r. Lingard, " have maintained that Crom- 
well dissembled in religion as well as in politics ; and that when he conde- 
scended to act the part of the saint, he assumed for interested purposes a 

1 Hist. Eng. Vol. i, p. 128, 130. » lb., pp. 269, 270. 

2 Hist England, Vol. viii, p. 206. 

5 



66 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

cliaractcr which he otherwise despised. But this supposition is contradicted 
by the uniform tenor of his life. Long before he turned his attention to the 
disputes between the king and the parliament, religious enthusiasm had made 
a deep impression on his mind ; it continually manifested itself during his 
long career, both in the senate and in the field ; and it was strikingly dis- 
plaj-ed in his speeches and prayers on the last evening of his life. It should, 
however, be observed, that he made his religion harmonize with his ambition."^ 

A distinguished American^ utters eloquent language respecting Cromwell 
well worthy of attention, as it indicates a useful line of inquiry, although 
It does not afford a key to his mission. " I would ask," he says, " what did 
Cromwell, with all his military genius, do for England? He overthrew the 
Monarchy, and he established Dictatorial power in his own person. And 
what happened next? Another soldier overthrew the Dictatorship, and 
restored the Monarch3\ The sword effected both. Cromwell made one revo- 
lution ; and Monk another. And what did the people of England gain b}' 
it ? Nothing. Absolutely nothing ! The rights and liberties of English- 
men, as thej' now exist, were settled and established at the revolution in 
1688. Now, mark the difference ! By whom was that revolution begun and 
conducted ? Was it b}" soldiers : by military genius : by the sword ? No ! 
It was the work of statesmen and eminent lawyers, — men never distinguished 
for military exploits. The faculty — the dormant faculty, may have existed. 
That is what no one can affirm or deny. But it would have been thought an 
absurd and extravagant thing to i)ropose, in reliance upon this possible dor- 
mant faculty, that one of those eminent statesmen and lawj^ers should be sent, 
instead of the Duke of Marlborough, to command the English forces on 
the continent." 

To suppose that nothing was gained by the career of Cromwell, is incon- 
sistent with faith in human progress. The gain might not be apparent in 
his generation, and yet be visible in its results to the nation in succeeding 
periods. Whatever he attempted was done in the name of democracy^ and 
the Lord. If all cannot discover public benefits in his measures, no one can 
dispute the extraordinary power in his exertions. This is admirabty pictured 
by Cowlej', as quoted by Hume :'* " What can be more extraordinary," he 
says, " than that a person of private birth and education, no fortune, no 
eminent qualities of bod}', which have sometimes, nor shining talents of mind, 

1 Hist, of Eng., Vol. viii, p. 271. and presented by Fairfax to the House of 

Commons, that it might be transmitted to 

2 John Sergeant. , , . -, , . , 

the several counties, and there receive the 

3 A plan of the intended constitution, en- approbation of the inhabitants. — Br. Lin- 
titled, " The Agreement of the People" had gard's Hist, of Eng., Vol. viii, p. 125. 
been sanctioned by the council of officers, * Hist, of Eng., Vol. v, p. 486. 



PEOTECTOBATE OF OLIYEK CEOMWELL. 67 

which have often raised men to the highest dignities, should have the courage 
to attempt, and the abilities to execute, so gi'eat a design as the subverting 
one of the most ancient and best established monarchies in the world ? That 
he should have the power and boldness to put his prince and master to an 
open and infamous death ? Should banish that niunerous and strongly allied 
famil}^? Cover all these temerities under a seeming obedience to a parlia- 
ment, in whose service he pretended to be retained ? Trample, too, upon 
that parliament in their turn, and scornfully expel them as soon as the}' gave 
him ground of dissatisfaction? Erect in their place the dominion of the 
saints, and give realit}- to the most visionary' idea which the heated imagina- 
tion of any fanatic was ever able to entertain ? Suppress again that monster 
in its infancy, and openly set up himself above all things that ever were 
called sovereign in England? Overcome first all his enemies by arms, and 
all his friends afterward b}^ artifice ? Serve all parties patiently for awhile, 
and command them victoriously^ at last ? Overrun each corner of the three 
nations, and subdue, with equal facility, both the riches of the south and the 
poA^ert}' of the north? Be feared and courted by all foreign princes, and be 
adopted a brother to the gods of the earth? Call together parliaments with 
a word of his pen, and scatter them again with the breath of his mouth? 
Reduce to subjection a warlike and discontented nation, hj means of a 
mutinous army? Command a mutinous army by means of seditious and 
factious officers ? Be himiblj' and daily petitioned, that he would be pleased, 
at the rate of millions a j^ear, to be hired as master of those who had 
hired him before to be their servant ? Have the estates and lives of three 
nations as much at his disposal as was once the little inheritance of his 
fathej, and be as noble and liberal in the spending of them? And 
lastl}", (for there is no end of enumerating every particular of his glory), 
with one word, bequeath all this power and splendor to his posteritj^ ? Die 
possessed of peace at home and triumph abroad ? Be buried among kings, 
and with more than regal solemnit}^, and leave a name behind him not to be 
extinguished but with the whole world ; which, as it was too little for his 
praise, so might it have been for his conquests, if the short line of his mor- 
tal life could have stretched out to the extent of his immortal designs." 

The might}' power of truth, even uttered and applied b}^ a wicked man, is 
not without its influence. It appears only in its grandeui' and giorj', when 
guided b}' integrity and wisdom. These high qualities were wanting in 
Cromwell, and the cause of truth went forward without the further aid of his 
name. His confidence in force made him blind to counsel. He had not the 
corn-age to listen to truth, nor the honest}- to follow the voice of wisdom. To 
him no rebuke was available, no ridicule had a sting. i 

1 These points were well illustrated in his intercourse with Sir Henry Vane. 



68 HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 

One of the first perceptible indications of a progressive religious libertj- in 
England was in the sixth 3'ear of the reign of William the Conqueror (1072), 
who, at the instigation of the Pope, summoned a national synod, to deter- 
mine a dispute between the sees of Canterbury and York, respecting 
supremac}' ; and the discussion of questions of this class, and of the 
succession of royalty, made the chief business of the early Parliaments. The 
first clear account we have of the representatives of the people forming a 
House of Commons was in the 43 Henry HI, 1258, when it was settled, by 
the statutes at Oxford, that twelve persons should be chosen to represent 
the commons in the three Parliaments, which, by the sixth statute, were to 
be held 3^earl3\i The general representation, by knights, citizens and 
burgesses, took place 49 Henry HI, 1265.^ Church and State, in England, 
have alwaj^s labored together. The first religious contest was between the 
government of England and the Church of Rome. When the rule of the pon- 
tiflT ceased, parties of Protestants began to rise ; and religious liberty has 
been discussed, in everj* variety of form, for more than four hundred years. 
The- hol}^ field for the sacred contests of men became extended by the union 
of Catholic Ireland and Presb^^terian Scotland. The histor}^ of this sacred 
vein of man's nature in the three kingdoms of Great Britain is a great subject 
by itself, and it has been much discussed by the ablest and the purest minds. 
It requires but a glance, however, to see the slow but onward march of 
religious freedom in England. It is only necessary to read the doings of the 
Courts of High Commission, and to note the " test acts," " acts for abolish- 
ing diversity of opinions," " five-mile acts," " conventicle acts," " acts 
against occasional conformity," debates on " exclusion bills," "rights of the 
Catholics," and similar waj^-marks to be found on record, and then to look 
at the present toleration laws of the nation, in order to be fully convinced of 
the great and glorious changes which have been accomplished by the conflicts 
of religious zeal and controversy in England. 

The liberal and conservative parties still travel together, proposing and 
rejecting, renouncing and adjusting ; but, while each has its common centre. 

When Sir Henry saw Col. Worseley enter language^ and therefore no defence in it. 

the Parliament house followed by soldiers, When Vane was invited to join the new 

hy command of Cromwell, he exclaimed, — Council of State, called in the name of the 

"This is not honest. It is against moral- Lord, he replied that "he believed the 

ity and common honesty." " Sir Henry reign of the saints would now begin, but, 

Vane," replied Cromwell, " O Sir Henry for his part, he was willing to defer his 

Vane ! The Lord- deliver me from Sir Henry share in it until he> should go to heaven." — 

Vane! He might have prevented this. Thurloe's State Papers, Yoiu. 1,^.2^2, 

But he is a juggler, and has not common; ^ Burton's Annals. 

honesty himself." — Dr. Lingard, Vol. 2 Dugdale's Summonses to Pari., edit. 

VIII, p. 192. There was no truth in this 1685. — Did. Dates. 



CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. tjy 

and revolves, as it were, on its own axis, both have an orbit of a more 
extended revohition, whose centre of influence is the sun of progress, — the 
opening light of truth. In history are to be found the battle-fields and the 
landmarks of ancient defences which have been successively conquered, 
surrendered and abandoned, by opposing parties ; and the party car of free- 
dom, that is destined to return the soul in true life to its Maker, moving on 
in its illimitable track, displaying the trophies of its victories, and exposing 
to view the hideous remains of error, which, " to be hated, needs but to be 
seen." 

Civil liberty assumed a regular form in the charters, and in the Parliament, 
which was the first to enact laws for the people. Religious freedom precedes 
civil liberty. Eeligious and political independence are distinct conditions, 
and the separate results of the exercise of the different classes of faculties. 
We do not speak of the individual, but of the nation. The nation is trained 
and led by the hand of Deit}', before it is placed in the keeping of intellect. 

It was the earl}'' doctrine of the conservative part}^, that " nations perish 
when they change."^ When control was absolute and but little doubted, 
participation in government was counted a labor, and distinction conferred by 
arbitrary- power a tax. Books were looked upon as the special property of 
the aristocracy, and the people knew no bill of rights but the will of the 
sovereign. The charter was the promise of ro3'alty to the people. It began 
with simple exceptions to the rule of royal swaj^, by way of special favor. 
Favors by rojal courtesy soon became rights by guarantee. Rights by 
agreement then were acknowledged to be rights by inheritance, and soon these 
rights are found secured by the laws of Parliament and by a constitution. 
The first great period in the history of rights was marked b}^ their recital in 
the Magna Charta granted by John ; the second, the beginning of the elec- 
tive franchise ; the third, the parliamentary power to enact laws acknowledged 
by the king and people ; and the fourth, the colonial system, or the granting 
of charters to take possession of a distant territorj^, with certain specific and 
delegated powers to administer the afi'airs of a separate government of sub- 
servient relations.^ 



1 Governments perish when they change, haps, less hberty than under the Tudors, 

was the remark of Cardinal Soderini to yet the king had also less authority : the 

Adrian VI, who was disposed to be a re- power of the barons was a great check 

former of abuses. upon him, and exercised great tyranny 

2In speaking of the ancient constitution over them. But there was still a more 

of England, Hume says : "By the ancient ancient constitution, namely, that before 

constitution is meant that which prevailed the signing of the charters, where neither 

before the settlement of our present plan of the people nor the barons had any regular 

liberty. There was a more ancient consti- privileges ; and the power of the govern- 

tution, where, though the people had, per- ment, during the reign of an able prince, 



70 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

In considering tlie claims of the democracy on the one hand, and the reluc- 
tant concessions of the conservative party in power on the other, we are 
constantly impressed with the lively activity of party interest, and the uncon- 
querable spirit of part}' jealousy, in the nice adjustments of new conditions. 
When democrac}' centred in the Commons,the conservatives looked for strength 
in the peers of the realm. When royalty and the Lords became weak, and the 
Commons strong, the}' sought a balancing power in assumed prerogatives, — 
Dispensing Acts, Proclamations, Monopolies ; and in the " Courts of High 
Commission" and " Star-Chamber" it was assumed that the yielding of new 
privileges, which the people were fitted to enjoy and appreciate, was the 
supposed evil of too much freedom, and was to be remedied only by the 
usurpation of power. When the Commons had their seasons of comparative 
feebleness, and government was controlled by the irresponsible hand of arbi- 
trary power, sustained by the corruptions of rank and wealth, then the pre- 
rogative of Parliament to gi'ant supplies, and the energies and determination 
of the people to insist upon their lawful rights by new appointments and new 
elections, were exerted to the utmost ; and the evils, which had a tongue in 
every form and a spirit in every soul of anguish, were abroad at noon-day 
and in the dread hours of midnight, in actuality, to be felt, to be seen, and to 
be remedied. Before, the government remedy was clothed in the forbidding 
habiliments of usurpation, and the supposed evils of yielding power by the 
few became the sufferings of the many. Now, the loathsome garments of 
oppression were not only to be cast off and destroyed by repeal, but govern- 
ment itself was to be clothed anew in a legitimate dress, the prerogatives of 
royalty reduced, the people restored to their rights, surrounded by new safe- 
guards, and invested with a larger liberty. Thus the success of the con- 
servative party becomes the means of abridging its own power, and the 
source of evidence to prove its own errors, while the success of democracy 
enlarges its own sphere of authority, and proves by its own acts its title to 
truth and sovereignty. The record of repeal proves to be the record of 
reform. The tests of security are to be found in the confirmations of old 



was almost wholly in the king. The Eng- to teach the monarchical part its proper 

lish constitution, like all others, has been duties in its own rude and unceremonious 

in a state of continual fluctuation."— Vol. manner."— ^S'wyi^, p. 543. 
IV. p. 345. 

" Before the Revolution, the favorites of The right of granting money to the crown 

our monarchs were often driven away from by the Commons has not been disputed 

the sovereign, fined, imprisoned, or ex- since 1671. To this power of the popular 

ecuted; and the democratic part of our branch a distinguished writer of England 

constitution, on these occasions, rushed attributes " all the reforms of the constitu- 

forth (if I may be allowed the expression) tion." 



MAGNA CHART A— HABEAS CORPUS ACT. 71 

compacts which have been gained by long-continued struggles, and by 
new enactments demanded by the rise of new interests. 

Magna Charta had been confirmed above thirty times before the Common- 
wealth of Cromwell. The " Right of Petition," discussed in the earl}^ part 
of the reign of Charles the First, resulted in the habeas corpus act of Charles 
the Second.^ The frequent suspension, without any late attempt to repeal 
this act, shows, the settled state of the nation in respect to its acknowledged 
importance. The establishment of an independent judiciary and the trial by 
jury, as a security to the administration of justice, were marked out and 
gained by the democratic party, and ultimately confirmed by the intelligent 
and honest of all parties, as supplying the obvious wants of humanit}^ What 
the Magna Charta was to the thirteenth century, the constitution, as gathered 
and proclaimed at the time of the revolution of 1688, was to the seven- 
teenth. A constitution of a nation is securit}^ to the people, as a compact 
between parties. It is unquestionable evidence of agreement. It may be 
honored by observance, or dishonored by violation. To be efficient, it must 
be understood and appreciated. If framed by the wisdom which comes from 
experience, it serves to indicate and to fortify the achievements of the past, 
and to secure a unity of action in the adjustment of opposite or varying 
interests of the future.^ 

The elective franchise originated among competitors for control ; and what 
was first used by the aristocracy to gain power by contrivance, was discov- 
ered to be a right lodged by Deit}^ in the bosom of a people. Every man 
invested with a capacity to seek and to ask found a title-deed within himself, 
and claimed to have it acknowledged and recorded as b}' authority. 

1 The Habeas Corpus Act, in the reign of not observed it, he \rent on with his mis- 
Charles the Second, was obtained only by reckoning of ten ; so it was reported to the 
repeated, persevering, unwearied exertions house, and declared that they who were for 
of the Earl of Shaftesbury, after a struggle the bill were the majority, though it indeed 
of many years. The king would have went on the other side, and by this means 
gladly vetoed the bill, — but he feared to the bill was passed." Vol. i, p. 485. 
oppose the popular will. At a subsequent Such a statement is improbable. It 
period, he favored its repeal ; but even the would place a stigma upon the friends of 
tory party from the country were almost the bill, and a trick of such dimensions 
unanimous in sustaining it. would have been discovered by its oppo- 

The following anecdote is given by hents. Such an act would have been a 

Burnet, and it has been extensively quoted, fraud, and without force as a precedent, 

but not doubted. He says, — and when known would have rendered the 

"The Habeas Corpus Act was carried by bill itself invalid. In the nature of things, 
an odd artifice in the House of Lords. Lord intentional fraud can establish no law. 
Gray and Lord Norris were named to be the When discovered and proved to be an impo- 
tellers. Lord Norris, being a man subject sition, the law upon such a basis becomes a 
to vapours, was not at all times attentive to nullity. Besides, this contest in the House 
what he was doing ; so a very fat Lord of Lords was a severe one, and every parti- 
coming in, Lord Gray counted him for ten, san closely watched. Ferguson, in his 
as a jest at first, but seeing Lord Norris had " Growth of Popery," affirms that "this bill 



72 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

The conservative part^' of England has disputed these titles with a two- 
fold power of resistance. The}^ have denied to the ignorant the power of 
knowledge, and the light of truth to discover the evidence of this right, and 
they have 3-ielded to its claims when proved, as yet, only a partial record and 
most reluctant assent.^ A distinct and detailed history of the elective fran- 
chise and representative S3'stem, as advanced in England, would make a 
most instructive chapter, and tend to prove the vital importance of the 
democratic part}-^ to the great and growing interests of a nation. 

Then, again, the same principles are strikingly illustrated in the conven- 
tional history of England, — the history of the British Parliament. The 
independent exercise of individual rights is one thing, — the freedom of Par- 
liament quite another. 

What has been said of the origin of elections is equally applicable to 
Parliaments. As elections took place before their freedom was secured, so 
Parliaments were summoned to assemble a long period before their indepen- 
dence was protected b}' constitutional authority. What was deemed neces- 
sar}' b}' royalt}^, as a defence, soon became the strong arm of government, 
able to resist dictation, and to frame laws. Parliaments began as the agents 
of power, but soon found themselves in the more exalted station of chosen 
guardians of the rights of the people. They began as the servants of the 
king, and found b}' degrees that the}^ were the protectors of a nation. As 
this mighty power developed its growing strength, the king and the aristoc- 
raej sought to control its doings, or to crush the exercise of its authority. 
Here again are to be found the two great parties organized for conventional 
war, each forming, as it preferred, or as it was able, coalitions with the Pope, 
the church, or the king ; the one asking a greater freedom, and the other 
resisting in ever}" conceivable way, the granting of such a danger. 



met -vrith great opposition from the Lords ; cannot have a light, to enable them to do 

that it gave rise to several conferences the good which they intend, without expos- 

between tlie two houses ; and that, though ing the evil which is in preparation, they 

it was far short of what it ought to have claim darkness for defence, and ignorance 

been, it was almost a miracle that the Lords for security. But the achievements of the 

suffered it to pass at all." This is fully democratic party for freedom of speech, and 

confirmed by Ralph. Burnet was too much for the free action of that mighty engine of 

pleased with the ludicrous to be careful. truth, the Press, have been great and per- 

1 The freedom of speech and the freedom manent. Hume says that "the liberty of 

of the press were early regarded as the the press did not even commence with the 

great sources of danger by the conservative Revolution. It was not till 1694 that the 

party. The want of confidence in the pos- restraints were taken off, to the great dis- 

session of power, without any conception of pleasure of the king and his ministers, who, 

principles upon which to base it, is much seeing nowhere, in any government during 

like the courage of the travelling coward in present or past ages, any example of such 

the dark, who sees an enemy in every objet-t, unlimited freedom, doubted much of its 

and an attack in every motion. As they salutary effects." — Vol. vi, p. 372. 



FREEDOM OF PARLIAMENT. 73 

To say nothing of the party divisions of society as marked by natural 
dispositions and by circumstances of condition, it is easy to see in the gov- 
ernment of Great Britain peculiarities which favor an aristocracy, and which 
tend to perpetuate the conservative feeling, and to oppose the democratic. 

To use the language of the Earl of Shaftesbury (1675) : " You have in 
our English government the House of Commons, affording the sense, the 
mind, the information, the complaints, the grievances and the desires, of all 
those people for whom they serve throughout the whole nation. The people 
are thus secure ; no laws can be made, nor money given, but what themselves, 
though at home, full}' consent and agree to. The second estate in this gov- 
ernment is the Lords, who are the council, the wisdom and judgment of the 
nation, to which their birth, education and constant employment, being the 
same in every Parliament, prepare and fit them. The last and supreme of 
all is the king, — one who gives life and vigor to the proceedings of the 
other two ; the will and desires of the people, though approved by the wisdom 
and judgment of the Lords, are abortive, unless he bids them to be an act. 
Human reason can hardly contrive a more excellent government." 

Such was the language of a member of the House of Lords when in his 
liberal mood, and who demanded frequent Parliaments as due to the people, 
and who was among the foremost to show the absurdity of the doctrine of 
" ^7ie divine right of kings.** And ^^et it will be seen that the language is 
parental and conservative. Rank, prerogative and wisdom, are supposed to 
be combined in the King and Lords, while the people are regarded rather as 
the source of evidence of what is wanted, than the source of power of what 
is to be done. 

The People, the Commons, the Lords and the King, make the governmental 
pyramid, said the Rev. Dr. Chalmers, of Scotland.^ He considered the figure 
as emblematic of strength and permanency. So it is. But it must be a 
pjTamid of growth, not of pre-determined structure. It must have its roots, 
its life-blood, and its soil. These are to growth what people are to govern- 
ment. The people constitute the basis, and the superstructure will be found 
to change according to their will. Change is but another word for growth. 
It is to throw off old formations, and to build up new ones. Not at the 
expense of parts or of proportions, nor at the sacrifice of any fundamental 
principle, but in conformity to laws of human progress. The King of Eng- 
land began as an absolute sovereign, subject to no exceptions to his rule. 
He is still the representative of royalty, but he has been compelled to part 
with most of his power .^ He has divided it with the nobility, the Commons 
and the people, according to his fanc}^, judgment, or necessities. Not, at 
any time, for the purpose of lessening his authority, but with the obvious 
motives of yielding a minor power, to save a greater. So far from being the 

1 This was a remark made to the author 2 The late Duke of Sussex, in 1835, in 
in 1835. making a comparison between the preroga- 



7i HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

king that he was, the dispenser of all power, he is reduced to the position 
of having no power, — his prerogatives making the exceptions to the rule. 

The Lords are still the representatives of aristocracy ; but their subservi- 
ent relations to the king in his weakness, their sickly means of increase, their 
doubtful standing in the affections of the people, and their fears of the 
Commons, are not onh^ sources of embarrassment to such action as they 
may believe due to themselves, but of influences which tend rather to 
diminish than add to their strength, rather to lessen their importance than 
add to the dignity of their rank. They have long ceased to be the exclusive 
" wisdom and the judgment of the nation ; " and we find the titled nobility 
and the Higiit EcA^erend Bishops of his Majesty's High Council "humbly"^ 
asking concurrence of the Commons, during the reign of Charles the Second, 
nearly two hundred 3'ears ago. Even more. This branch of the govern- 
ment, made up by fictitious distinctions, and subject to the contingencies of 
ambition controlled b}^ wealth, or weakness entailed by birth, was denomi- 
nated b}' Pultene}', in the time of George Second, the " I-Iospital of 
Invalids;"^ and Lord Chesterfield, in his letters to his son (1766), in 
speaking of Pitt's "/aH upstairs," Avhen he was made the Earl of Chatham, 
called the House of Lords the " Hospital of Incurables." ^ Burke, in the 
House of Commons (1772), did not add much to the dignity of these com- 
pliments, when he said, " The Lords do not know what is going forward in 
this house ; and what is worse, they do not understand the principles of the 
constitution." * 

AVith the metaphor of the pyramid before us, if we descend to the Com- 
mons, we find a body of men of great diversity of character, and doubtless 
elected to their places b}' the influence of high as well as questionable 
motives, by the influence of rank, wealth and interest. They stand i^ro- 
fessedly in direct relation to the people, or moi^e so than either the King or 
the Lords. 

The beginning of the Commons was but a nominal relation between the 
great men and their followers. The barons were sought by the king, the 
people by the barons. From an assembly which had of itself no power, and 
which was organized with no motive but to secure and dispense the power 
of others, the Commons have become the guardians of the national purse ; 

tives of the King of England and the Presi- ' the Lords humbly desired the concurrence 

dent of the United States, expressed an of that House.' When these were with- 

opinion that the President had more power drawn (the MS. Diary says), a hearty 

than the King. — To the author. laWghter ensued at the word humbly, and 

1 *' An accident happened this day in the some moved to have it so put down in the 

House of Commons (Dec. 21, 1660), which journals, as a precedent."— Pa W. Deb.^ 

occasioned some merriment amongst them. Vol. iv, p. 163. 

The Lords sent down two messengers with 2 Pari. Deb., Vol. xii, p. 1120. 

some bills they had passed, with some 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. xvi, p. 234. 

amendments: to which, the bearers said, 4 Pari. Deb., Vol. xvii, p. 513. 



HOUSE OF COMMONS. 



T5 



and thus the masters of the Lords and King. And yet the Commons are 
far from being independent. Placed between a permanent authority, which 
has ceased to grow in correspondence with its own power, and a constitu- 
ency liable to all the inroads of bribery and corruption, its growth has been 
slow and the means of an independent influence variable. But it is a 
living bodj". It has ever been the chief source of life to the government, 
and it will prove to be the perpetual safeguard to the people. It will be 
continued with increased means to reform itself. As the people rise in 
capacity and wisdom, their strength will impart new vigor and character to 
the Commons. Its growing power will tend to show that an improving 
people cannot rest without an improving government. The pyramid will 
still be wanted ; but if the body and apex sink, while the base increases, 
where shall we look to find its grandeur, or to discover its beauty ? 

The ceaseless sources of life that have added to the power and dignity of the 
Commons, the democracy of England, will in due time begin a new develop- 
ment. The representative sj^stem will be extended, and an hereditary mon- 
archy will give place to an elective government.^ When the British Colonies 



iThis was written in 1851. The progress 
of democracy and republicanism in Eng- 
land, since that time, fully justifies these 
views. Throughout England and Scotland, 
it is said, there are sixty-eight republican 
clubs, which in one year from their incep- 
tion enrolled thirty thousand men. These, 
by no means, represent the strength of the 
organization, for Mr. Bradlaugh believes 
that there are not far from one hundred 
thousand men who would vote for the change. 
"Besides these," says a correspondent of 
the New York World, " are the theoretical, 
philosophical, and parliamentary republi- 
cans, composed of men like Mr. Fawcett, 
P. A. Taylor, Moncure D. Conway." The 
more active, perhaps, are Sir Charles Dilke, 
Mr. Bradlaugh, Mr. Odger, Mr. Herbert, 
Mr. Chas. C. Cattell, Mr. Fred. Harri- 
son, R. Applegarth, R. A. Cooper, T. C. 
Cox, H. V. Mayer, and many others might 
be named. 

At a meeting in Birmingham, May 12th, 
1873, the following resolution was passed : 

" Resolved, That a national republican 
organization be forthwith established for the 
purpose of carrying out a political pro- 
gramme upon which all republican or dem- 
ocratic societies or clubs can agree to be 
united." It was voted that the association 
thus organized, be called "The National 



Republican League," and" That the objects 
of the League be carried out by purely le- 
gal and loyal means." The Convention 
was addressed by Mr. Bradlaugh, who said, 
" It was the first time in the history of Eng- 
land that from all parts of England men had 
been convoked in that way. Altogether 
there were fifty-four delegates present, gen- 
tlemen from all parts of the country, — east, 
west, north and south," 

That it might be distinctly and openly 
understood that they were loyal reformers, 
he said, " Force was only justifiable to pro- 
tect and preserve the rights they had, and 
not to try to win those they had not. The 
place for them was at the polling booth, and 
in the Parliament House." * * * "The 
republic for which they were striving was 
the republic which resulted from the educa- 
tion of the masses, until the majority un- 
derstood they had political duties to perform, 
as well as the mere possession of their 
rights." This is the republicanism of de- 
mocracy. To show how much still remains 
to be accomplished in England, — quotations 
are made from interesting speeches made 
by Charles C. Cattell, Esq., in Birmingham, 
and by Sir Charles Dilke, M. P. , in Man- 
chester, and placed in the Appendix. See 
Appendix B. 



76 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

are prepared for independence and nationality, — Great Britain ma}^ be in a 
condition to establish a republican form of government. The p^Tamid will 
then stand as a tower of strength ; its parts will grow in harmony, control- 
ling the sources of its own existence b}^ the means of constant and unceasing 
renewal. 

But let us look at the Commons, connected as it has been, and still is, 
with royalt}' and the Lords. It is still in the process of growth. It has 
been bought and sold as a slave ; it has reared its head and ruled as a 
master.^ The army has treated it with indignity as a prisoner, and submitted 
to its control as a commander. It has seen the glor}^ and efficiency which 
come from unity, and has been distracted by the direful factions of diversity. 
It has been a monopolist, and the subject of monopoly. It has connived at 
treason, and denounced patriotism. It has dethroned its royal master, been 
the sacrifice of its own weakness, and the violator of its own laws. It has 
proved alternately the friend of liberty, and the instrument of oppression. 
Indeed, not unlike individuals, either alone or combined with others, the 
King, the Lords and the Commons, have had their seasons of legitimate 
power, patriotism, tyranny, treason and hopeless imbecility. Each, b}^ turns, 
has been the subject of vehement abuse, complaint, contempt and ridicule.^ 

But what has the transcendent and absolute power of Parliament accom- 
plished, in its complicated fluctuations? Everything that has rendered 
England happy at home, or respected abroad. The rights of the people have 
been defined and secured by its discussions and enactments. And, what is 
of immeasurable importance, it has assigned limits to the pretensions of 
royalty, and established precedents for correcting its own abuses. Even its 
weakness has been made to serve the people, and its follies have increased 
the activity of the common mind. We cannot suflSciently dwell upon the 
great and strongly marked diflference between the beautiful results of a dem- 
ocratic policy and those of an opposite character which distinguish the 
conservative party. With a just legislation in view of the wants of the 



1 De Lolme says, — " In 2 Henry Fourth, Sir John Dalrymple says, — "It is a 
the Commons claimed a right of not grant- curious fact in the history of English lib- 
ing any supply before they received an erty, that the first person who was raised 
answer to their petitions ; which was a tacit by the Commons to the dignity of their 
manner of bargaining with the crown." — speaker, was a member who had been im- 
p. 131. prisoned by Edward Third, for attacking 

2 Parliaments have been characterized by his ministers and mistress in Parliament, 
every variety of name. "Long," " Short," From the period of that prince's reign, the 
"Little," "Rump," "Purged," "Pension- house of Commons regularly increased in 
ary," "Angelic," "Mad," "Diabohcal," consideration and power." — Ddlrymple's 
"Doubting," "Bat," "Barebones," "Praise Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 15. Such a fact illus- 
God Barebones," "Wonder-working," trates the beauty of the ways of Providence, 
"Weak and Heady," "Healing and Bles- and points to the reward of patriotic duty, 
sed," &c., &c. 



HOUSE OF COMMONS. 77 

people, industr}^ has been encouraged, comforts multiplied, knowledge 
diffused, and commerce extended. Condemned almost to a perpetual minor- 
it}', the liberal party of one generation have immortalized themselves as the 
law-givers of the next. What democracy early proposed, truth has accom- 
plished. The victories of toryism ended in defeat, and the defeats of 
democrac}^ ended in victory. The temporary gains of the tory party have 
proved to be the permanent glory of the democratic. 

The proudest pages of literature, science and patriotism in Great Britain, 
are from democratic minds. A few of the many illustrious men, who have 
honored democracy may be mentioned : George Buchanan, John Locke, 
John Milton, Sidne}^, Russell, Hampden, Sir Isaac Newton, Thomson, 
Cowper, Addison, Steele, Earl of Chatham, Lord Camden, Earl of Effing- 
ham, Col. Ban-e, Burke, Fox, Sheridan, Erskine, &c. A particular notice 
of each of these and others, will be given in a future chapter. 

The democratic legislation of England is thus given by Addison : " With 
regard to the people," he says, — " every one must own that those laws 
w^hich have most conduced to the ease and happiness of the subject, have 
alwa3^s passed in those parliaments, which their enemies branded with the 
name of Whig, and dm'ing the time of a Whig ministry. And, what is very 
remarkable, the Tories are now forced to have recourse to those laws for 
shelter and protection ; by which they tacitly do honor to the Whig scheme, 
and own it more accommodated to the happiness of the people, than that 
which they espouse." ^ 

But our purpose is to speak more of classes of events than of the events 
tliemselves. We wish simply to point out some of the principal streams of 
active causes which flow to a common centre, in the ideal world, as rivers 
to the ocean, again to be dissipated, and again to be retm-ned, thus yielding 
life and means to the unceasing progress of humanit3\ 

We return to the period of the seventeenth centur3',as one of crises, tran- 
sitions and offsets, and where we find the accumulated results of centuries 
of individual and conventional progress, in active conflict. The struggles 
and restrictions of roj^alt}', the pretensions of the nobilit}^, the rights of the 
people, and the birth and growth of parliament ; the expanding of the 
church, the privileges of conscience, the exclusion of papacy, and the tolera- 
tion of sects, — all these questions, and their innumerable and complicated 
correlatives, had been discussed with a burning zeal, which many genera- 
tions had contributed to augment to an intense flame, and which were precipi- 
tated in every possible variety of shape and fragment, into this period of 
startling interest, when Charles the First, Oliver Cromwell, Charles the 
Second, James the Second and William the Third,'^ were made the fearful 
instruments of adjustment. 

1 Freeholder, No. 54. Magna Charta,— a new Petition of Right, 

2 " The Bill )f rights was in fact, a new — a new enrolment of the prerogatives, if I 



Y8 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

The common mind of England was overwhelmed with the controversies 
connected with the church and the government, and Cromwell rose up, the 
controller of sects, and William the Third became the political arbiter of 
the people. The first revolution foreshadowed the coming might of the 
people ; the second, the sure decay of roj^altj^ The first prepared the way 
for civil and religious libert}^ ; the second secured these blessings in a per- 
manent form, for another period of growth. The first took down, the second 
built up. The former enlarged the area of freedom, the latter occupied it. 
The histor}^ of democrac}^ in England is important because it is instructive. 
Brief chapters are given in this volume from the period of Cromwell to that 
of George the Third. 

It would be interesting and instructive to trace democracy as developed 
in the Italian republics, in German}', Spain, Russia, &c. ; but the limits of 
this work preclude extended allusion to these nations. Thej will be 
noticed incidentallj^ in future chapters, as alTording illustrations of 
principles. 

Thus the author has endeavored to give a brief view of principles, as a 
necessary introduction to the work which is proposed. It is designed 
simph' as a suggestive sketch, imperfect it must be confessed, but .made in 
the hope that it will prove an humble aid to the reader in considering the 
important topics which are to follow. Such a review of the past appeared 
to be imperatively demanded by the nature of the undertaking, in order 
that the student might with more clearness understand the origin of national 
causes, and be able to follow them out in their consequent relations, so 
widely displayed in the events of the world. The author's aim is that of 
inquiry ; and while he ma^^ fail to present new views, or prove to be the 
unfortunate instrument of distorting old ones, it is possible that he may be 
the means of inducing some attention to important facts, or subjects, and of 
inciting the activit}^ of more gifted minds to pursue a further investigation, 
and thus give birth to works of wider range, clearer views, and of more 
extended erudition. 

VOX POPULI EST VOX DEI.i 
There is a sacred feature of the subject, as made visible in the Providence 

may so speak, of the democratic part of the country had appeared in a state of positive 

constitution, — which, though consented to and successful resistance to his authority." 

by William, an elected prince, and perhaps — Smyth's Modern Hist., p. 352. 

even thought necessary to his own justifica- i This proverb was quoted by William of 

tion and security, could only have been ex- Malmesbury, early in the twelfth century, 

torted by force from any reigning heredi- There is a Chinese saying of the same 

tary monarch ; and in point of fact, was cer- meaning, but in more emphatic language, 

tainly not procured by the English nation, on uttered more than 1200 years B. C. : 

this occasion, till the regular possessor of the " Heaven's views may be ascertained from 

crown had ceased to wear it, and till the our people's views." 



vox POPULI EST VOX DEI. 79 

of Gocl, and expressed in the ancient maxim, — Vox populi est vox Dei, 
which is entitled to thoughtful notice and consideration. 

In the time of James Second, 1688, a great number of the nobility and 
gentry at Nottingham, signed and published a protest against the illegal 
acts of the King, — which thus concludes : " They indeed, owned it rebellion 
to resist a King that governed by law ; but he was always accounted a tyrant 
that made his will his law ; and to resist such an one they justly esteemed no 
rebellion, but a necessary defence : and on this consideration, they doubted 
not of all honest men's assistance, and humbly hoped for, and implored the 
Great God's protection, that turned the hearts of people as pleased him 
best ; it having been observed, that people could never be of one mind 
without his inspiration, which had in all ages confirmed that observation, 
*' Vox populi est vox Dei" 

Extreme and timid partisans, whose opinions are overruled by private 
interest, or by passions of the people, or whose impatience does not enable 
them profitably to study the teachings of time, are often disposed to doubt 
this democratic maxim. In the reign of George Second, (1753), Sir Roger 
Nudigate^ in the House of Commons, complained that the whigs of that 
da}' were not in agreement with the whigs of former times. He said, — 
" Among their ancestors the established maxim was, ' Vox populi est vox 
Dei ; ' but their posterit}' of this age have in this preamble ^ told us that 
* Vox populi est vox Diaboli,' as it must be, if it be directed by artful and 
wicked men." ^ Thus qualified, Sir Roger was safe in his language, but this 
cannot be said of all who are inclined to reflect upon the ultimate judgment 
of the people. 

In this connection, the remarks of Froude, in his lectures on the times of 
Erasmus and Luther, — ma}' help to elucidate this subject. He sa^- s, — " In 
the sciences the philosopher leads ; the rest of us take on trust what he 
tells us. The spiritual progress of mankind has followed the opposite 
com'se. Each forward step has been made first among the people, and the 
last converts have been among the learned. 

" The explanation is not far to look for. In the sciences there is no 
temptation of self-interest to mislead. In matters which aflTect life and 
conduct, the interests and prejudices of the cultivated classes, are enlisted 
on the side of the existing order of things, and their better trained facul- 
ties and larger acquirements, serve only to find them arguments for 
believing what thej^ wish to believe. 

" Simple men have less to lose ; they come more in contact with the reali- 
ties of life, and they learn wisdom in the experience of sufifering. 

" Thus it was, that when the learned and the wise turned Siwaj from 
Christianity, the fisherman of the Galilean lake, listened, and a new life 

1 Preamble of the Jews' Naturalization 2 p. j).^ Yoh. xv, p. 133. 
Bill. 



80 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

begaiD for mankind. A miner's son converted Germany to the Reforma- 
tion. The London artisans and the peasants of Buckinghamshire, went to the 
stake for doctrines which were accepted afterward for a second revelation. 

" So it has been ; so it will be to the end. When a great teacher comes 
again upon the earth, he will find his first disciples where Christ found 
them and Luther found them." ^ 

The cause of democracy rests upon the immutable basis of eternal truth. 
Man is acknowledged to be the responsible agent of power, and the subject 
of the exalted relations of thought, freedom and holiness. He is invested 
by his Maker with those attributes of instinct and discernment which give 
perpetuit}^ to the race, safet}^ to the nation, and dignity to the objects of 
life. Religion has been admirably characterized b}' M. Dumas as " the 
NUKSE OF THE PEOPLE." This is a sentimcut of transcendent truth and 
beauty. It is proved by innumerable facts, which ma}^ be found in history, 
and may be seen magnificently illustrated in the constantly transpiring 
events of nations. * 

In all ages of the world, and among all the tribes and nations of the 
earth, the rule of Deity has been acknowledged above every other power, 
and superior to every other principle.^ We do not speak of its form of 
manifestation, nor shall we presume to fathom Infinite Wisdom in the 
control of the mysterious agents by which its power is exerted. These are 
questions too vast for the feeble capacities of the human mind. It is not 
for us to draw the line between good and evil, as done by man, and seen by 
God ; to elevate the king, and crush the peasant ; to exalt the philosopher, 
and proscribe the savage ; to rank the Christian and exclude the pagan, as 
the means of progress, or as the obstacles of universal improvement. It is 
not for us to sit in judgment on the inward workings of the soul, to dictate 
its flights, to question its prerogatives, or to measure its unseen dominions. 
It is not for us to scan the sublime and ultimate destinies of nations, nor 
the fearful wonders of Providence, which overrule a Pharaoh, educe love 
from the hate of a Pilate, and transmute the wickedness of rulers into dis- 
pensations that bless a people or advance a world. These are themes to be 
contemplated as we look upon a balanced universe, poised b}' the Almighty 
hand that made it to be seen only in the trackless visions of speechless 
wonder, but not to be comprehended by the philosophy of a finite mind. 

What more can the creature ask than an all-pervading love, that sustains 
a bounteous world, and opens to the growing mind of man the golden flood- 
gates of ineffable light, truth and beauty ! That, while it permits desola- 



1 Short Studies on Great Subjects, p. 126. laid in religious institutions ; and that, with- 

out the fear of Heaven, the republic would 

2 Cicero says : " I never thought any re- never have arrived to its present flourishing 
ligion to be despised: I have always con- condition." — Cicero J)e Natura Deorum, 
sidered the foundation of our state to be .Lib. iii. 



vox POPULI EST VOX DEI. 81 

tion, points to new sources of J03' ; that, T\'hile it gives " rain and sunshine" 
to the oppressor, adds new energies to the spirit of freedom ; that, while it 
submerges the common mind in the darkness of ignorance, inspires an un- 
quenchable thirst for knowledge ; that, while the wicked are permitted to 
rule, girds the righteous with invincible strength ; and that, while it has 
darkened the disk of its glory with the conditions of death, has opened new 
and inexhaustible fountains of life, and placed within the reach of man the 
means of happiness, and within the reach of nations the means of freedom. 
Whether men follow counsels which free them from slavery, or take them 
from freedom, they are the continued subjects of divine care. A righteous 
people may dethrone a wicked king, or a self-elected ruler may rise up to 
scourge a wicked people, — whatever and whichever the events ma}^ be, the 
popular voice is either hushed in meek submission to the sway of supersti- 
tion, a state of zeal and of ignorance, or speaks with the thundering tones of 
enlightened confidence in the justice of God, and in the freedom of man. 

The Israelites became the followers of Moses because he was the servant 
of the Lord. Jesus of Nazareth was worshipped by the shepherds of Beth- 
lehem because he was the Son of God, and the cross has become the sacred 
emblem of unconquerable might. The Eg3'ptians began their history with 
d3masties of gods and heroes, and the government of Persia was based upon 
the teachings of the sacred book. The Titans, a band of adventurers from 
Phoenicia, became the sacred teachers of the ancient Greeks. Lj^curgus had 
no confidence in his own powers of persuasion to induce the Spartans to con- 
form to his government, without the aid of the Delphian Oracle.^ Pisistratus 
had no hope in usurpation, but by counterfeiting the gods ; and Hippias could 
be dethi'oned only by bribing them. Plato says " that his countrymen derived 
all their knowledge of divine things from the ancients, who, as he aflflrms, were 
wiser, and lived nearer to the gods." Alexander the Great claimed to be a 
descendant of Jupiter, and gained a control over the Eg3'ptians b^^ acknowl- 
edging an affinity' between their deities and those of Greece. The Roman 
Senate was looked upon with religious awe, because it was believed to be the 
medium of supernatural power ; and the tribunes became invested with the 
same agenc}', but to serve the people and enlarge their liberties."^ The Pope 

1 The Delphian Oracle, tutored, it may tion of any decree of the senate which they 
be supposed, to the purpose, declared Ly- judged prejudicial to the people. They 
curgus the friend and favorite of the gods ; were not allowed, however, to interfere in 
and proclaimed to Sparta that from liim she the deliberations of that body, nor per- 
should derive the most perfect government mitted ever to enter the senate-house, 
on earth. The persons of these magistrates were de- 
clared sacred ; but their authority was con- 

2 The tribunes were elected annually, fined within the bounds of the city and a 
like the consuls. At first, they were five mile beyond the walls. The division of 
in number ; but afterwards their number such a power with the people, in any de- 
was increased to ten. They had the power gree, was an important concession on the 
of suspending, by a single veto, the execu- part of the senate. 

6 



8^ 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



claimed to act in accordance witli a charter from Heaven ; and Pepin and 
Charlemagne, of France, joined with the Sovereign Pontiff to secure the 
civil and religious rule of nations.^ The Benedictines'^ of Italy were reverenced 
by kings, and the powerful possessors of wealth, as the representatives of 
Deity, and were regarded as the mediators between man and his Maker. The 
ancient Britons bowed to the ferocious rule of the Druids ; the Anglo-Saxons 
to that of the Cross ; and when the Duke of Normandy was prepared to 
invade England, he was joined b}^ the power of the Holy See of Rome, and we 
find his warriors at prayers to the God of nations to command the elements, 
and to bless his arms.^ The Sultan of Turkey swears to govern according 
to the injunctions of Mahomet, because he is believed to be the only teacher 
from Heaven ; and the emperors of the Celestial Empire have no influence, 
except as the}- are believed to be the representatives of Deity. 



^ Pepin sent an embassy to Rome, to 
Zachary the Pope, proposing it as a ques- 
tion to his Holiness whether he or Childeric 
liad the best title to the throne. Zachary 
had formed the scheme of erecting a tem- 
poral dominion in Italy, and wished, for 
that purpose, to employ the arms of France 
to wrest the kingdom from the Lombards. 
An opportunity now offered of securing the 
friendship of Pepin. The Pope decided the 
question by declaring that it was conducive 
to the honor of God, and the interests of 
the church, that Pepin, who already exer- 
cised the office of king, should possess the 
title also. 

Charlemagne frequently visited Italy, 
both to establish his own power in that 
country, which was endangered by the par- 
tisans of the descendants of the Lombard 
kings, and to defend the authority of the 
popedom, which was firmly devoted to his 
interests. — Tytler, Vol. ii, pp. 59, 73. 

2 Benedict, the founder of this order, was 
an Italian by birth. He had studied at 
liome, and soon distinguished himself by 
liis talents, as well as superior sanctity. 
While quite young, he retired to a cave, 
at Subiaco, where he remained for some 
years. Some neighboring hermits chose 
liim for their head, or superior; and the 
donations which they received from the 
devout and charitable, very soon enabled 
them to build a large monastery. The rep- 
utation of Benedict increased daily; and 
he began to perform miracles, Avhicli at- 



tracted the notice of Totila, the Gothic 
King of Italy. 

3 The Norman fleet and army had been 
assembled, early in the summer, at the 
mouth of the small river Dive, and all the 
troops had been instantly embarked; but 
the winds proved long contrary, and de- 
tained them in that harbor. The authority, 
however, of the duke, the good discipline 
maintained among the seamen and soldiers, 
and the great care in supplying them with 
provisions, had prevented any disorder, 
when at last the wind became favorable, 
and enabled them to sail along the coast 
till they reached St. Valori. There were, 
however, several vessels lost in this short 
passage ; and, as the wind again proved 
contrary, the army began to imagine that 
Heaven had declared against them, and 
that, notwithstanding the Pope's benediction, 
they were destined to certain destruction. 

These bold warriors, who despised real 
dangers, were very subject to the dread of 
imaginary ones ; and many of them began 
to mutiny, some of them even to desert 
their colors, when the duke, in order to 
support their drooping hopes, ordered a 
procession to be made with the relics of 
St. Valori, and prayers to be said for more 
favorable weather. The wind instantly 
changed ; and, as this incident happened on 
the eve of the feast of St. Michael, the 
tutelar saint of Normandy, the soldiers, 
fancying they saw the hand of Heaven in 
all these circumstances, proceeded with the 
greatest alacrity. — See Hume, Vol. i, p. 146. 



vox POPULI EST VOX DEL 83 

It has been said tliat the clerg}^, in the dark ages, discovered the power 
sought to be exerted by Archimedes, — the aid of another world to move the 
one they lived in. But this power is always present, though clothed in the 
varj'ing forms of a progressive condition. Whether we follow it in the 
mighty gatherings at Placentia, or in the moving multitudes led on by Peter 
the Hermit, and b}' kings in the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries, to 
rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the infidels ;^ whether we embark with the 
spirit of a Columbus, or a Cortez, a Pizarro, or with the Pilgrims in the Ma}'- 
llower, — we can find no people bold enough to challenge its authority, — no 
people strong enough to withstand its rule. Indeed it is the onl}- rule 
universally acknowledged by man, although sometimes opposed by his wis- 
dom. A change of religious belief is but a change of form, and not of prin- 
ciple. Superstition is but religious zeal without knowledge, and error but 
the evidence of ignorance of the practical uses of knowledge. 

The religious principle in man is as mighty in its swa}' as it is indestruc- 
tible in its nature. Its existence does not depend upon the feeble enactments 
of nations, nor upon the persuasive powers of its ministers. These are but 
the humble instruments of its development. With its presence and power, 
the world becomes a field of indescribable interest and glor}^ ; but, in its 
absence, — could the mind be withered to such a thought, — the world would 
cease to be a place of being, and man would fall to the senseless level of 
chaotic matter. 

It is the breathings of democrac}^, as taught by the Bible, that have sub- 

1 "Peter, commonly called the Hermit, and which was so numerous that no hall 

a native of Amiens, in Picardy, had made could contain the multitude, and it was nec- 

the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Being deeply essary to hold the assembly on a plain, 

affected with the dangers to which that act The harangues of the Pope, and of Peter 

of piety now exposed the pilgrims, as well himself, representing the dismal situation of 

as with the instances of oppression under their brethren in the east, and the indignity 

which the eastern Christians labored, he en- suffered by the Christian name in allowing 

tertained the bold, and, to all appearance, the holy city to remain in the hands of infi- 

i'.npracticable project, of leading into Asia, dels, here found the minds of men so well 

from the furthest extremities of the west, prepared, that the whole multitude suddenly 

armies sufficient to subdue those potent and violently declared for the war, and 

and warlike nations which now held the solemnly devoted themselves to perform this 

holy city in subjection. He proposed his service, so meritorious, as they believed it, 

views to Martin Second, who filled the to God and religion." — ^ZTwrne, Vol. i, p. 227. 
papal chair, and who, though sensible of The subject of the crusades is an impor- 

the advantages which the head of the Chris- tant one, and will be n-oticed and considered 

tian religion must reap from a religious in future chapters. The first was com- 

war, and though he esteemed the blind zeal menced in 1096; the second in 1147; the 

of Peter a proper means for effecting the third, (by sea) in 1189; t\\Q fourth in 1202; 

purpose, resolved not to interpose his au- the fifth, (by sea) in 1217; the sixth, (two 

tliority till he saw a greater probability of expeditions) in 1238 ; the seventh, in 1245 ; 

success. He summoned a council at Pla- the eighth, and last, in 1270, and ended in, 

CENTiA, which consisted of four thousand X291. 
ecclesiastics and thirty, thousand ■ seculars, . 



84 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

jected that sacred book to the indignity of guards and proscriptions. The 
Bible has given power to the popes and priests, and freedom to the people. 
It prepared the Puritans for religious liberty, and the people of the American 
colonics for independence.^ When we contemplate, in the landing of the 
Pilgrims at Pl^'mouth, the beginning of a mighty nation ; their confidence in 
God and libert}^, their struggles, hardships and sufferings, their jealous vigi- 
lance of rights, and their visions of growth and greatness, — we may hear, 
in the prayers and exhortations which were echoed in the wilderness, the 
divine proclamation, "That the voice of the people is the voice of God." 
If we follow the growth of the colonies, and trace their soui'ces of strength, 
diversities of power, stability of purpose, wonderful foresight of danger, 
strength of endurance, means of protection, love of freedom, and uncom- 
promising spirit to defend it, we cannot fail to see, in the birth of Wash- 
ington,^ and in his elevation to power ; in the birth of Benjamin Franklin, 
Samuel Adams, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, Joseph 
Hawle}^, John Hancock, and the sacred band of their associates, — endowed 
as the}^ were with extraordinary powers of discernment, prudence and 
courage, — another illustration of the glorious truth, That the voice of 

THE PEOPLE is THE VOICE OF GOD. 

If we leave the infant republic in charge of the patriot who fought its 
battles and achieved its independence, and turn to behold the mighty nation 
that it has become, by the unconquerable spirit and wise administration of 
democracy ; and to contemplate the hope in humanit}^ which it has inspired, 
we are again led to acknowledge and to admire the beauty and exalted force 
of the sacred maxim. That the voice of the people is the voice of 
God. 



1 A Bible Society was constituted in Rus- on the 24:th of April, 1826, an ukase, enact- 

sia, 23d January, 1813, and had for its pres- ing the suppression of the Russian Bible 

ident, under the protectorship of the em- Society, proceeded from the supreme au- 

peror, Prince Alexander Galitsin, minister thority. — Court and Government of Rus- 

of religious worship and public instruction, sia, by J. If. Schnitzler, Vol. ii, p. 489. 
The activity of the society was very great. 2 What a sublime democratic triumph does 

Its seat was at St. Petersburg ; but it had, the following correspondence indicate ! The 

moreover, throughout the whole extent of ruins of an Empire to perpetuate the glory 

the empire, 289 committees or auxiliary of a Republic ; the recognition of peace as 

:80cieties. Donations amounted to 3,711,109 identical with democracy, — and a volun- 

iroubles. It caused the scriptures to be tary tribute of the Supreme Pontiff to aid 

translated and printed, or at least to be cir- in rearing a monument in honor of the 

culated, in 41 idioms, of those which are achievements of the people ! / 

spoken in Russia, apart from the national 

Sclavonic language, especially by the nu- ^^ Legation aes Etats Unis-d' Amer 

merous Pinnish and Ural tribes. It dis- tque, pres le Saint Siege, Borne 



■I 

'■ou 
to encourage^the spirit of democracy ; and, that I have been apprized by his Holiness 



tributed 448,109 copies. In 1825 it printed ^ec. 24, 1851. 

70,000 more. It was soon found, however, " Sir : I have the honor to inform you 



INFLUENCES AND RESULTS OF DEMOCRACY. 



85 



It was a conception of the poet, of great and fearful import, that 
** An undevout astronomer is mad ; " 

and, with a similar conviction and feeling in respect to the magnitude of the 
subject which this work is intended to elucidate, we cannot but add, that, 
whoever has studied man in the true dignit}' of his nature, or the sublime 
destin}' of nations, without becoming a friend to democracy ; or, whoever 
has studied democracy without realizing the elevating emotions of adora- 
tion to his Maker, has failed to discover the paramount objects of life, and 
the most exalted privileges which inhere in the exercise of the rights of a 
true citizen. 



the Pope, through Cardinal AntonelH, the 
Secretary of State of the Roman govern- 
ment, of his intention to contribute a block 
of marble toward the erection of the 
national monument to the memory of 
Washington. The block was taken from 
the ancient Temple of Peace, adjoining the 
palace of the Caesars, and is to receive the 
inscription of ' Rome to America.' As soon 
as the work is completed, the necessary 
measures will be taken to forward it to 
you. 

" I am, sir, very respectfully, 

" Your obedient servant, 

"Lewis Cass, Jr." 

Addressed to the Secretary of the National 
Monument Society, Washington, D. C. 

''Washington, Feb. 4, 1851. 
♦' Sir : Your letter of the 24th of De- 
cember last, informing me that you had 
been ' apprized by His Holiness the Pope, 
through Cardinal Antonelli, the Secretary 
of State of the Roman government, of his 
intention to contribute a block of marble 
towards the erection of the national monu- 
ment to the memory of Washington,' has 
been laid before the Board of Managers 
of the Washington National Monument 
Society of this city, and they have in- 
structed me to communicate, through you, 
to his Holiness the Pope, their sincere 
gratification at the information thus fur- 
nished of his intention to contribute a block 
of marble from the ruins of the Temple of 



Peace, at Rome, to be placed in the monu- 
ment now in the course of erection in honor 
of the illustrious Washington. 

"I am requested to assure you that it 
will be not only interesting, but acceptable 
as an offering from ' Rome to America ; * 
and especially so as forming a part of an 
ancient structure, dedicated to peace, in the 
vicinity of the Palace of the Csesars, to be 
placed in juxtaposition with blocks of stone 
which have been presented by the modern 
and free States of the American confeder- 
acy. It will be regarded as a manifestation 
of respect paid to patriotism and private 
virtue, to the name and character of one 
whom the civilized world holds in the high- 
est estimation, and to a nation whose annals 
he has rendered glorious. 

" The monument now in course of erec- 
tion will, it is believed, from its magnifi- 
cence, do honor to the great patriot and 
statesman, as well as to his countrymen, by 
whose voluntary contributions it is to be 
erected. 

"The Board of Managers respectfully 
request you to tender their thanks to his 
Holiness for his very acceptable contribu- 
tion, and to inform him that it shall be 
placed in a conspicuous position in the 
monument. 

" I have the honor to be, 
" Very respectfully, 

" Your obedient servant, 
*' Geo. Watterston, Secretary, 
"Lewis Cass, Jr., United States Charge 

d' AflTaires, Rome." 



86 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

The triumphs of Democracy constitute the waj^-marks of the world. The\- 
demand no extraneous element of endurance for permanency, no fictitious 
splendor for embellishment, no borrowed greatness for glor}'. Originating 
in the inexhaustible sources of power, moved by the spirit of love and lib- 
erty, and guided by the wisdom which comes from the instincts and experi- 
ence of the immortal soul, as developed in the people, democracy exists in 
the imperishable principle of progress, and registers its achievements in the 
institutions of freedom, and in the blessings which characterize and beautify 
the realities of life. Its genius is to assert and advance the true dignity of 
mind, to elevate the motives and affections of man, and to extend, establish, 
protect and equalize, the common rights of humanity. 



AMERICA]^ OOLOl^IES. 



POLITICAL HISTORY. 



Political History is the record of events in their relations as national 
causes. Its objects are to discover the sources of national prosperity, and 
the instrumentalities by which that prosperity has been achieved, whether by 
party or otherwise. The end of such a stud}^ obviously consists in a just 
application of principles as developed by a common experience. It compre- 
hends man as a being of intelligence, principles as the standard of action, 
laws and institutions as the exponents of practice, governments as the agents 
of power, and nations as aggregated results. A rudimental key to the sub- 
ject is to be found in a knowledge of the faculties of the human mind.^ Let 



1 So constituted is the mind of man, that 
liis views enlarge, and his desires and wants 
increase, in full proportion to the facilities 
afforded for their gratification ; and, indeed, 
with augmented rapidity, so that no sooner 
has the successful exercise of his powers 
accomplished any considerable simplification 
or improvement of processes subservient to 
his use or comfort, than his faculties are 
again on the stretch to extend the limits of 
his newly acquired power ; and having once 
experienced the advantages which are to be 
gathered by availing himself of some of the 
powers of nature to accomplish his ends, he 
is led thenceforward to regard them all as a 
treasure placed at his disposal, if he have 
only the art, the industry, or the good for- 
tune, to penetrate those recesses which 
conceal them from immediate view. Hav- 
ing once learned to look on knowledge as 
power, and to avail himself of it as such, 
he is no longer content to limit his enter- 
prises to the beaten track of former usage, 

87 



but is constantly led onward to contemplate 
objects which, in a previous stage of his prog- 
ress, he would haA'^e regarded as unattain- 
able and visionary, had he even thought of 
them at all. It is here that the investiga- 
tion of the hidden powers of nature be- 
comes a mine, every vein of which is preg- 
nant with inexhaustible wealth, and whose 
ramifications appear to extend in all direc- 
tions wherever human wants or curiosity 
ma}"^ lead us to explore. These remarks of 
Herschel on '■'■the general nature and advan- 
tages of the study of the physical sciences " 
suggest a method of study quite as applica- 
ble to other topics. Between the develop- 
ments of mind and the growth of nations 
there is an instructive correspondence of 
cause and effect. "Those processes of 
human agency advance most happily to 
their consummation," says Baron Humboldt, 
"which most faithfully resemble the opera- 
tions of the natural world." — Sphere and 
Duties of Government^ p. 4. 



bS HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the mind be studied. The events first to be considered, in the political 
histor}' of the United States, are those which happened in England in the 
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and which led to the colonization of the 
American continent. But, in order that we ma}' have distinct views of 
national formations, let us first endeavor to understand the principles of 
colonization. 

THE PRINCIPLES OF COLONIZATION. 

The world of truth pervades eternity. God is its centre, humanity the 
means of its development. To man is given the double power of an inward 
and outward vision. He can look upon the events of the past, reproduced 
b}' the memory of the reflective powers ;i gather the results of an experience, 
which spring from a life, a generation, or from the aggregate ages alread}' 
transpired. He can look forward with an eye of hope that is illumined hy a 
living faith, aided b}' the knowledge which shapes conviction, by the light 
of revelation which insures immortality, and by the sentiments of the soul 
which elevate the mind to the great objects of existence, and prepare it for 
the untrodden paths of the future. 

Men limit the sources of influence to the narrow circle of individual exist- 
ence, and live content under the control of selfish pm*poses ; or they exert 
the powers of a higher nature, seeking a further knowledge, a superior 
good, a wider sphere, a sublimer philosophy. 

The inward view is reflection. It refines and perfects whatever has been 
observed and realized. It is the reviewing or comparing power of the mind. 
It compounds, compares and divides the elements of knowledge, and theo- 
rizes from a consciousness that comprehends the present and the past. 
With gifted minds the faculties of reflection s}' stematize knowledge, develop 
principles, and advance science. 

The outward view is perception. It is the mind looking out from itself, 
inspired by its instincts, and directed by its capacities, hopes and aspira^ 
tions. With a comprehensive glance at the common experience of the past ; 
with a lively sense of an advancing age, of new wants and present duties, 
the perceiving mind explores the future, and, with its clear conceptions of 
what is possible, leads the way to new discoveries, and illustrates the means 
of their attainment. The separate exercise of the reflective faculties makes 
the abstract student. The separate exercise of the perceptive faculties 
makes the speculative pioneer. Between the two extremes is to be found 
the variety of character which makes up the world. Added to these 
sources of mental activity, are to be found the impelling forces of moral 
and religious sentiment, combined with an unyielding adherence to self- 

1 Not memory as defined by philosophers of or Eeid, — but by the more practical system 
the Peripatetic school, or by Plato, Locke, of metaphysics of Spurzheim. 



PRINCIPLES OF COLONIZATION. 



89 



imposed convictions, and guarded b}' propensities, Tvhicli accumulate a 
power necessary' to advancement, and secure a control necessary to 
protection. 

Bacou^ and Franklin were pioneers of knowledge, combining with won- 
derful power and siraplicit}-, the results of the past with new provisions for 
the future. In Newton^ and La Place^ are seen those great teachers so rev- 
erentl}' invoked by Virgil,^ but who came not till Naples had been honored 
by the dust of the illustrious poet for more than sixteen hundred years.^ In 
view of modern times, the fifteenth century was made glorious by the great 
pioneer of Discovery,^ and the seventeenth by the immortal pioneers of 
Democracy. 



1 Lord Bacon was the first who taught 
the proper method of studying the sciences ; 
that is, he pointed out the way in which we 
should begin and carry on our pursuit of 
knowledge, in order to arrive at the truth. 
As, in a great army, there are some whose 
office it is to construct bridges, to cut paths 
along mountains, and to remove various 
impediments, so Lord Bacon may be said to 
have cleared the way to knowledge, to have 
marked out the road to truth, and to have 
left future travellers little else to do than 
follow his instructions. He was the miner 
and sapper of philosophy, the pioneer of 
nature ; and he eminently promoted the 
dominion of man over the material world. 
He was born in the year 156L Before 
his time the scholastic philosophy of Aris- 
totle prevailed. — British Library of Useful 
Knowledge. 

2 Sir Isaac Newton was born in 1642 
(O. S.) He died in 1727. He was of 
obscure origin, and employed when young 
as a market-boy. He was a democrat, and 
was twice elected a member of Parliament. 
He was a candidate a third time for a place 
in Parliament, but his democracy was ad- 
verse to his re-election. 

3 La Place was the. son of a farmer, and 
was born in 1729. He died in 1827. By 
the time he was twenty-one years of age he 
had mastered the discoveries of all the 
philosophers who preceded him, and was 
prepared to build on them a splendid super- 
structure of his own. 

4 As rendered by Dryden : 

*• Ye sacred Muses with whose beanty fired. 
My soul la raviahed, and my braia inspired, 



Whose priest I am, -whose holy fillets wear ; 
Would you your poet's first petition liear,— 
Give me the ways of wandering stars to know. 
The depths of heaven above, and earth below; 
Teach me the various labors of the moon, 
And whence proceed the eclipses of the sun ; 
Why flowing tides prevail upon the main. 
And iu what dark recess they shrink again ; 
What shakes the solid earth, what cause delays 
The summer nights, and shortens winter days." 



5 Yirgil was born at Mantua in the first 
consulship of Pompey the Great, 69 B. C. 
He died in the fifty-first year of his age. 

6 Columbus was the son of a Genoese 
Pilot; a pilot and seaman himself; and at 
one period of his career was compelled to 
beg his bread at the doors of the convents 
in Spain. *' But he carried within himself," 
says a distinguished writer, " and beneath a, 
humble exterior, a spirit for which there 
was not room in Spain, in Europe, nor in 
the then known world ; and which led him 
on to a height of usefulness and fame, 
beyond that of all the monarchs that ever 
reigned." All Europe was awakened by the 
discoveries of Columbus, and the family of 
the Cabots was among the warmest in in- 
sisting on further maritime adventure. 
There was a romance in the idea of dis- 
covering unknown realms. The world was 
to be enlarged ; every kingdom of nature 
was to be more productive. Enthusiasm 
pervaded all classes. Sebastian Cabot, who 
was just arrived at manhood, after alluding 
to the feelings of his countrymen, said, 
" By this fame and report, there increased 
in my heart a great flame of desire to 
attempt some notable thing." — Life of 
Cabot (Sparks* Series), by Hay ward. 



90 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Honor to the pioneer ! He is entitled to reverence as the earl}- agent of 
Providence in all those great changes of life which constitute the improve- 
ment of the world. ^Ye speak of the pioneer in an enlarged sense, — as the 
discoverer of new regions, new agents, new beauties, and new combinations 
in the natui'al, as well as new truths in the moral world. He seems to be 
endowed with an instinct superior to reason, a gift from his Maker to extend 
the limits of knowledge, and the great purposes of divine beneficence. 

We find him in the wilderness, self-exiled from the refinements of civil- 
ization, inviting labor, enduring hardships, incurring dangers, a willing 
neighbor to the savage.^ He is to be found upon the ocean, in the frail- 
constructed bark, without instructions from man, ploughing the trackless 
deep, with no chart of his destined shores but that of faith. Behold him in 
the icy regions of the poles, though aided b}^ the light of science, jet still the 
same unyielding and self-sacrificing spirit, reaching forward to burst the 
boundaries of his view. See him in the laboratory and in the work-shop, in 
the observatory and in the field. He is to be heard in the pulpit and in the 
halls of legislation, and read in the public prints. He is to be found in the 
caverns of the earth, in the depths of the sea, in the vaults of the ancients, 
in the crater of the volcano, on the summit of the loftiest mountain, in the 
lightning flashes of the cloud,^ and borne by the chariot of science and 
art above and beyond the tempests of the sk3^ Behold him, too, in the 
missions of the gospel to distant lands ; see him struggling in the cause of 
freedom, earnest and bold in all reforms, and a ministering angel of sj^m- 
pathy in the cause of suffering humanit3\ Every age has had its great and 
shining lights, suited to its period, and every nation its gifted spirits.^ 

The colony* is the offspring of the mind in its outward view. Without a 
disposition to leave his native soil, man would accomplish but a small por- 



1 The celebrated Daniel Boone, at the age Of the great names which in our faces stare, 

^ ^^, ■ u • 1 The General Boone, backwoodsman of Kentuclcy, 

of fifty-t^v^o years, having seen some adven- ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ anywhere ; 

turers returning from an expedition up the For, killing nothing but a bear or buck, he 

Missouri, who described the country bor- Enjoyed the lonely, vigorous, harmless days 

, . , Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze." 
dering on that river m glowing colors, 

resolved once more to seek a new home in 2 The most distinguished pioneers of 

the solitude of Missouri. Being inquired the world in discovering the laws of 

of as to what induced him to leave all the electricity are Franklin, Professors Morse 

comforts of home, and so rich and flourish- and Joseph Henry. The first discovered 

ing a country as his dear Kentucky, which its true nature and agency ; the second 

he had discovered and helped to win from labored to show the practicability of its 

the Indians, for the \N'ilds of Missouri, useful application, — and the third to point 

— "Too crowded! too crowded! I want out the means of its accomplishment, in the 

more elbow-room," he replied. This was successful telegraph. 

in 1798. He died in 1818. Lord Byron 3 Republic U. S. By the author. 

says of him : 4 Colony (in Latin Colonia, a word de- 

., ,, ,, , rived from the Latin verb coZo, colere, to till 

"Of all men, saving Sylla, the Man-slayer, in . 

Who passes for in life and death most lucky or cultivate the ground) originally signified 



PRINCIPLES OF COLONIZATION. 



91 



tion of his appointed work. The earth would becom-e a superfluous wilder- 
ness, inventive genius would seek in vain for objects of activit}', and the 
dexterous hand would be trained to no skill. Population would become so 
dense as to smother endeavor, production would stagnate, and industry 
could promise no reward. Enterprise would react upon enterprise, as the 
reverting stream destroys the water-fall ; and the activity of man would in- 
crease his wants, and lessen his power to supply them. Mental vigor would 
be dissipated by the sameness of action, the love of gain would degenerate 
into rapacity, and society in its natural ramifications would be broken down 
by the accumulated excesses of passion.^ Hence, in the love of travel and 
adventure ; in the restless spirit of romance which longs for new scenes and 
courts new dangers f in the unsatisfied cravings of a selfish nature, — the 
love of gain, whether manifested by the individual, the tribe, or the nation ; 
in the wild and unconquerable enthusiasm of the artist, the student, or in 



a number of people transferred from one 
country or place to another, where lands 
were allotted to them. The people them- 
selves were called Coloni, a word corres- 
ponding to our term colonists. The mean- 
ing of the word was extended to signify the 
country or place where colonists settled, 
and is now generally applied to any settle- 
ment or land possessed by a sovereign state 
upon foreign soil. — Cyclopedia of Political 
Knowledge. 

1 It has been sensibly remarked by one of 
our ablest modern writers on statistical 
affairs, says Lord Selkirk (in his work on 
the colonial policy of Great Britain, pub- 
lished in 1816), that whoever has thor- 
oughly investigated the commercial and 
colonial system, cannot have failed to notice 
how the different branches of human ac- 
tivity are gradually and successively de- 
veloped, each at its proper period. To 
illustrate this point, this writer adds(Gentz's 
State of Europe before and after the Erench 
Revolution), that when agriculture and 
manufactures have arrived at a certain 
degree of perfection, the desire of foreign 
commerce is naturally awakened; that, 
although the object of this propensity may 
be retarded or accelerated by adverse or 
favorable circumstances, the persevering 
activity of mankind will sooner or later 
accomplish it ; — that it will at length gain 
access to distant or unexplored regions, 
and succeed in its unremitted endeavors 



to connect all parts of the earth ; that the 
produce of remote countries becomes a 
new spur to industry; and that industry 
so excited explores and cultivates those 
lands, so that the productions of new 
regions operate to increase the activity and 
to multiply the commercial relations of the 
old; that this gives new life even to the 
interior of more civilized countries, and 
multiplies the objects of traffic ; that indus- 
try produces riches, and riches reproduce 
industry; and thus commerce at length 
becomes the foundation and the cement of 
of the whole social edifice. 

2 Those who have once tasted the pleasure 
of roving at large through woods and over 
mountains can never afterwards feel happy 
under the restraints of society. Curiosity 
and the love of action, no less than their 
wants, must have continually urged the 
earliest inhabitants of the globe to explore 
all the varieties of its surface. Pastoral 
tribes feel an interest in learning the nature 
of the country in the vicinity of their en- 
campments, the extent of its pastures, and 
the rivers which flow through and refresh 
it. * * * "When men in the progress of 
their migrations reach the sea-coast, the 
love of gain, as well as of adventure, soon 
impels them to launch upon the waves, and 
direct their course to distant countries. — 
History of Maritime and Inland Discovery ^ 
by Dr. Lardner. 



92 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the indoinitiible zeal of the fanatic, — is to be found a perpetual source of 
new agents, and a continued evidence of God's unbounded love. 

Men as colonists are influenced by ditferent motives. In this is to be 
seen the interesting fact, that the diversity of things is adapted to a cor- 
responding diversity of faculties. 

The learned Sismondi, in making a comparison between the ancient and 
modern colonies, laments the humiliating necessity of being compelled to 
favor the motives and practices of the ancients, as superior to those of the 
moderns. 

*' It will be thought," discourses this profound philosopher, " that a picture 
of the progressive civilization of the modern world by the colonies of 
Europe Avould not yield in grandeur to that of ancient colonization. In 
fact, during the three last centuries, Europeans have sent colonies into 
almost ever}' part of the habitable world. They have subjugated countries 
infinitely surpassing in extent those they have left, and they have founded 
empires and republics proportionably larger than those of the Old World. 
Nevertheless, we cannot for a moment compare in our minds the colonies 
of the ancients and those of the moderns, without the first impression, even 
before reflection, informing us that the colonies of the ancients renewed 
the human race, tempered it afresh, and began political existence with all 
the advantages of 5^outh ; ours, on the contrar}^, are born old, with all the 
jealousies, all the troubles, all the indigence, all the vices, of old Europe ; 
that the colonies of the ancients, in every point of civilization, constantly 
rose above those who had given birth to them ; that ours as constantly 
descend below their founders ; that our colonies, already so large, are des- 
tined to become larger ; but that in vain will be sought for in them, the 
virtues, the patriotism, the vigor, which belonged to the first age of the 
world. 

" More attentive observation makes us feel still greater differences. The 
Greeks, and before them the Egyptians, founded a colony that it might be 
complete in itself; we, that it ma}^ be a part of another empire. They had 
constantly in view the welfare of the colonists ; we, the advantage of the 
mother country. They wished the colony to suffice to itself, with respect to 
its subsistence, defence, internal government, and all the principles of its 
development : we wish it to be dependent in every way, to subsist by com- 
merce, and that this commerce should enrich the mother country ; that 
it should be defended by her arms, obedient to her orders, governed by her 
lieutenants, and that these new citizens should even receive their education 
only from their elder brothers. 

" A profound study of the colonies makes us perceive another difference, 
still more afflicting. The colonies of the Egyptians, of the Phoenicians, of 
the Greeks, and even of the Homans, brought benefits to the countries 
where they were established ; ours, calamities. The first, by their contact, 



PRINCIPLES OF COLONIZATION. 93 

civilized the barbarians ; the modern Europeans have, wherever they have 
settled, destroj^ed all ci^dlization foreign to then- own manners ; they have 
barbarized (if this expression may be allowed) the nations whom they call 
barbarous, by forcing them to renounce all the arts of life which they had 
themselves invented. They have, in their turn, barbarized themselves ; for 
here Europeans have descended to the manners of pastoral nations, there to 
that of hunters ; everywhere, in all their transactions with the aborigines, 
they have sullied themselves, by deceit, by abuse of force, and by cruelty ; 
everywhere they have gone back in the arts they brought from Europe; 
tlieir agricultm-e has become half savage, all their tools more rude, all their 
knowledge more incomplete, distinguished men more rare ; and the general 
level of intelligence, as well as of morality, has descended, instead of 
rising," ^ 

No one would willingly speak lightly of the views of M. de Sismondi, and 
it is with feelings of deference that exceptions are made to his comparisons. 
His statements are loosely made, and his conclusions are at variance with 
the rules of reason. Acknowledged facts are misused, and the elements of 
common knowledge omitted. While he is bent upon pointing out the dif- 
ferences in result, he forgets to consider the differences in cause. Indeed, 
cause and effect are frequently transposed, by mistaking the conditions of 
success for the cause of failure. In hardl}^ any respect are the cases which 
he presents parallel. It may be said, with much truth, that in almost all 
respects they are different. It must be remembered that every age of the 
world has its peculiar features, wants and means. Races stand in different 
relations, character demands different aids, society different processes, and 
nations different laws and boundaries. The empires of the ancients were as 
fragments compared to those of modern times. Fragment sought fragment, 
as in the sky the floating cloud attracts cloud before the coming rain. Sep- 
arately the}'' are comparatively nothing, but when combined a great design 
is accomplished. The people lived as parts of a nation, and nationality was 
unknown in the modern sense of the term. They had no definite concep- 
tions of an organized government, of territorial boundaries,^ of a general 



1 Essays on Political Economy, by M. De the whole of proper Greece, but it relaxes 
Sismondi, p. 249. very much when he gets out of the limits 

2 <'The Greeks," playfully writes Thomas of Greece, and beyond the Asiatic territor- 
Campbell, " called Homer the father of ies of the Trojan allies. He represents 
Geography. Homer is a mighty painter in Italy as an Island, he shows no acquain- 
song ; his tablet embraces heaven, earth tance with the Caspian Sea, and he makes 
and hell, — the habitations of gods and men, so gratuitous a coinage of strange countries 
of the living and the dead. He is, there- in the Odyssey, that the antiquaries dis- 
fore, better than a geographer; but still, we puting about some of their localities remind 
can scarcely hail him as a patriarch of me of a person who, when he was told that 
science. His chorographic fidelity is, no Napper Tandy had been taken, desired 
doubt, striking in portions of Asia, and in anxiously to be informed whereabouts 



94 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and a sj'stematized interest, or of the rights of nations. That they enter- 
tained vague notions in respect to all these subjects, no one will deny. The 
position taken here is, that history furnishes no conclusive evidence that 
they either theorized with completeness, or practised with much reference 
to system.^ A profound study of the subject should lead to opposite con- 
clusions. The doings of nations cover vast periods of time, and he that 
would solve the grand phenomena of their slow but certain progress, of 
their destructive sway and growing power, must not mistake the means of 
advancement for permanent results, nor poise the pains of the moment 
against the blessings of eternit}'. 

Colonization belongs to humanity. It is an outward condition of ad- 
vancement. It began with the existence of man. It is a progressive pro- 
cess, and develops some new feature at every step. It is allied with no 
policy but that of principle ; it stops short of no result but that which is in 
harmony with human progress. It precedes the action of government, and 
changes or outlives its original relations of dependence. 

To the Eg3q3tian and Phoenician colonists the ancient Greeks were 
indebted for their knowledge of agriculture, mining, commerce, and naviga- 
tion. By them they were also taught the arts of weaving, writing, and 
coining. These colonists were influenced chiefl}^ by motives of a commer- 
cial character. To similar motives, to their practice of banishment, and to 
a superabundant population, may be traced the earlier Greek colonies.^ 



Napper Tandy lay. He was told that the ing themselves in the ocean ; but he par- 
object of his inquiry was apt to shift its ticularly excepts from this general rule of 
latitude and longitude, and was at that time refreshment the Greater Bear, who had a 
probably floating at sea. The same thing surly aversion to take the water, much to 
may be said of countries that only floated the advantage of mariners, to whom Bruin 
in Homer's imagination. * * * Homer served in the place of a compass." — Metro- 
imagined the world to be encircled by the politan Magazine, Vol. i, p. 7. 
ocean, as may be seen by his description of ^ It was even as late as the fifteenth 
the sculpture on Achilles' shield. The sun century A. D., that Pope Alexander VI. 
according to Homer, issued every morning " appointed that a line, supposed to be 
from a beautiful eastern bay in the ocean, drawn from pole to pole, a hundred leagues 
in a chariot drawn by four horses, and to the westward of the Azores, should 
having crossed the ether, and reached the serve as a limit between the Portuguese and 
opposite oceanic stream (for it does not Spaniards ; and bestowed all to the east of 
appear that the poet imagined it to be bound- this imaginary line upon the Portuguese, 
less), Apollo there bathed his horses at and all to the west of it upon the Spaniards, 
night, and baited for a time. It is plain that The Pope, as the vicar and representative 
he could not have stopped the live-long of Jesus Christ, was supposed to have the 
night, as he had to be back in time to mount right of dominion over the kingdoms of the 
his coach in the morning; but in what man- earth." 

ner he got back Homer has not explained. ^^ The Etruscans, according to Dionysius of 

The moon, we are left to suppose, per- Harlicarnassus, consecrated to a particular 

formed the same evolution. As to the god all the youth of a certain age, furnished 

constellations, Homer speaks of their bath- them with, arras, and, after the performance 



ORIGIN OF AMERICAN COLONIES. 



95 



The colonies of the Carthaginians in the interior as well as on the coast of 
Africa, Sicily and Spain, are said to have been those of conquest, and 
chiefl}' for the purpose of keeping the country in subjection. This doubtless 
was an important object, but if the inquiry be made what were the motives 
of conquest, we are again directed to those of interest, or of personal ad- 
venture or distinction. The colonial system adopted b}^ ancient Rome was 
of a two-fold nature : to secure the conquered part of Italy, and to satisfy 
the claims of its indigent citizens by a division of lands more favorable 
to their plans of industry.^ 

As the world progresses, the sphere of motives becomes enlarged. The 
faculties are more fully developed, they are exercised in new combinations, 
and knowledge is seen in an extended application.^ In Christianity man 
found still higher aims and nobler duties, and was moved by an intenser 
zeal. The Spanish colonists in Mexico, Peru, Cuba and Paraguay ; the 
Portuguese in Brazil and India ; the French and English everywhere, may 
be spoken of as having been influenced by all the motives which character- 
ized the ancients, and b}^ the sublimer requisitions of Christianit3\^ 

To form definite and accurate opinions of the colonies in North America, 
which now make a portion of the United States, it is necessary that we 
should turn back and study the period of their birth, the events connected 



of a solemn sacrifice, dismissed them to 
conquer for themselves a new country. 

At the end of three hundred years the 
Greeks were more advanced than their 
instructors, the Egyptians. "The com- 
munity of interest," says Sismondi^ "the 
close approximation of all the citizens, their 
constant action on one another, made the 
colonies of antiquity resemble a school of 
mutual instruction. "What one knew all 
knew, all practised, all taught to the 
natives." 

1 The Roman Provincial system must not 
be confounded with their Colonial system. 
A Roman province, in the latter sense of 
that term, meant a country which was sub- 
jected to the dominion of Rome, and gov- 
erned by a praetor, propraetor, or pro-consul, 
sent from Rome, who generally held office 
for a year, but sometimes for a longer 
period. 

A distinction should be made between 
Roman colonies and Latin colonies. The 
citizens who went out to form a Roman 
colony retained all their civic rights. The 
members of Roman colonies which were 



called Latin (Coloniae Latinae) had not the 
Roman citizenship; they voluntarily re- 
nounced part of their civic rights, in con- 
sideration of a grant of lands. — Cyclopedia 
of Political Knowledge, ^c 

2 "It is a very ordinary subject of com- 
plaint against democratic commonwealths," 
says Lord Brougham, "that they always 
maltreat their provinces and their colonies." 
But, after reviewing briefly the colonial 
history of the republics of Greece, Rome, 
Carthage and of the Dutch, he concludes, 
"Upon the Avhole, it seems reasonable that 
there is notliing in the democratic polity 
peculiarly incompatible with the wise and 
humane management of colonial affairs," 
&c. — Political History, Vol. hi, p. 135. 

3 Rol^ert Cushman, in his reasons and 
considerations touching the lawfulness of 
removing out of England into the parts of 
America, 1621, refers to the following 
passages in the Bible as authorizing and 
even commanding colonization, — Gen. 12 : 
1,2; and 35: 1. Also, 17: 8. Matt. 2: 
19. Psalm 105 : 13. Josh. 5 : 12. Heb. 
1 : 1, 2. 2 Cor, 5 : 1, 2, 3. 



96 HISTOFwY OF DEMOCRACY. 

with their growth, and mark the developments of their progress, as illus- 
trative of great and vital principles. 

ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN COLONIES. 

America was discovered by Columbus in 1492.^ For more than a cen- 
tur}" it continued a wilderness, the object of an indefinite curiosity, the sub- 
ject of mere speculation. It was visited occasionally by navigators, with 
dreamy and fluctuating motives of discovery ; but its importance was meas- 
ured only by the standard of the natives who ranged its hills and forests, 
and not by that of European civilization. It was not understood, — it was 
not wanted. It ma}' have had charms for the zealot who was a lover of 
gold, and for the bold adventurer, who cared for no happiness but that of 
excitement, and for no object but that of renown. To the mass of the 
people in the old country, the newly dicovered continent appeared more 
like a distant star than a territory for a civilized race, — an object of wonder, 
and perhaps of admiration, but altogether too remote for serious contem- 
plation. Their wants were circumscribed by the limits of their knowledge 
and condition, and their grievances were remedied by expedients adapted 
to the narrow frame-work of the age in which they lived. 

But England, France, Spain, Germany, Switzerland and Holland, were 
beginning to assume distinct formations in a national point of view, and 
mind commenced a new era by giving birth to motives which enlarged the 



1 Columbus supposed Hispaniola to be America. — Marshall's Amer. Col. History. 
the ancient Ophir, which had been visited But the student will be inclined to give 
by the ships of King Solomon, and that some consideration to the Ante-Columbian 
Cuba and Terra Firma were but remote Discoveries. An Icelandic historian, Tor- 
parts of Asia. On the 5th of March, 1495, faeus, has claimed for his ancestors the glory- 
Henry VII. of England granted a commis- of having discovered the New World, 
ion to John Cabot, an enterprising Vene- ( Torfcsi Historia Vinlandice Antiques, 
tian, who had settled in Bristol, and to his Hafnice^ 1705.) A learned work has re- 
three sons, Lewis, Sebastian and Sanctius, cently been published by the Royal Society 
empowering them, or either of them, to sail of Northern Antiquaries, at Copenhagen, 
under the banner of England towards the giving an account of the voyages made to 
east, north or west, in order to discover America by the Scandinavian Northmen 
countries unoccupied by any Christian during the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thir- 
state, and to take possession of them in his teenth and fourteenth centuries. The ac- 
name. In May, 1496, Cabot, with his counts of these early voyages are pubhshed 
second son, Sebastian, sailed from Bristol in from authentic manuscripts, which date 
a small squadron, consisting of one ship back as far as the tenth century. The 
furnished by the king, and four barks fitted work is entitled, ^^Antiquitates Americance 
out by merchants of that city ; and, steer- sive Scriptores Septentrionales Rerum 
ing almost due west, discovered the islands Anti-Columhianarum in America. Eaf- 
of Newfoundland and St. John's, and soon nt<^, 1837." — See App. R. I. Hist. Coll., 
afterward reached the continent of North Vol. 4. 



ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN COLONIES. 



97 



circles of enterprise, multiplied the objects of life, and elevated the purposes 
of existence.^ Nations were seen as individualities, freedom was claimed 
as a natural right, government as a protection, and religion the holy cause 
of each and all. Towards these momentous topics the universal mind 
became directed. Nations became the observers of nations, public practice 
was reduced to national law, and discover}- became the subject of competi- 
tion. Gain, the great incentive to commercial enterprise and success, the 
fruitful source of jealousy and renewed endeavor, combined to produce 
magnificent schemes and golden encouragements. The claims of science 
were asserted by the philosopher, the divine right of kings was questioned 
by the government, the swa}^ of the Pope was resisted by roj-altj- and the 
prerogatives of conscience were declared b}- the people. The moral tides 
of nations had begun to flow and ebb, and society to enlarge its boundaries. 
The political atmosphere of England at this time was filled with the spray 
of i^sLYty strife ; communities were distracted by the convulsive throes of 
religious passion, dislo^^alty, and universal mistrust.^ 

The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries constituted a period of division, 
trial and experiment. Church and state were struggling together in a com- 
mon cause, slowly fortifying the government against the returning tides of 
Papac}',^ and laboring with distracted purposes to assert a unity in the midst 



1 An extrordinary impulse was given, 
about this period, to the progress of Euro- 
pean civilization, by the simultaneous inven- 
tion — or, at least, introduction from the 
East — of the mariner's compass, gunpowder 
and artillery, an improved system of arith- 
metic, and the art of printing. Combined 
with these were a renewed study of the 
Roman law, the cultivation of Greek litera- 
ture, the restoration of the fine arts, and 
the opening of new paths of industry and 
commercial enterprise.— Tat/Zor's Natural 
History of Society. 

2 The early part of the seventeenth cen- 
tury was denominated "an age of vipers, 
and monsters of all sorts." — Pari. Deh., 
Vol. II, p. 660 (1640). In the House of 
Lords, 1641, Bishop Hall Speaks with great 
feeling of "thewoful and lamentable con- 
dition of the poor Church of England, your 
dear mother." " My lords," he continues, 
"this was not wont to be her style. We 
have heretofore talked of the famous and 
flourishing Church of England, but now 
your lordships must give me leave to say 
that the poor Church of England humbly 

7 



prostrates herself at your lordships' feet 
(next after his sacred majesty), and humbly 
craves your compassion and present aid. 
My lords, it is a foul and dangerous inso- 
lence this, which is now complained of to 
you; but it is only one of a hundred of 
those which have been of late done to tliis 
church and government. The Church of 
England, as your lordships cannot choose 
but know, hath been and is miserably infest- 
ed with papists on one side, and schismat- 
ics on the other. * * * Alas I my lords, 
I beseech you consider what it is that there 
should be in London and the suburbs and 
liberties no fewer than fourscore congrega- 
tions of several sectaries, as I have been 
too credibly informed, instructed by guides 
fit for them, coblers, taylors, felt-makers, 
and such like trash, which all are taught to 
spit in the face of their mother, the Church 
of England, and to defy and revile her 
government." — Pari. Deb., Vol. ii, p. 
989. 

3 In 1620 Sir Jerome Horsey moved, in 
the House of Commons, "that four or six 
of that House might be appointed to search 



^8 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



of influences which were springing from the desperate contests between 
public authority and individual opinion, — between the rights of conscience 
and the claims of government. They stood side by side, each supporting 
the other, but both in fearful apprehension of separate positions. 

The public mind became engaged in determining the boundary-lines of 
humanitN\ Toleration was either exalted as a virtue, or stigmatized as a 
crime.^ The compatibility of two governments appeared as clear as that of 
two systems of religion. Opinions were scrutinized as conclusive evidence 
of innocence or of malignity, and nonconformity reduced to action was war 
upon the state. The subject of rights was severed from the fortified securi- 
ties of the past, and became a topic for private and public discussion. 
What reason did not accomplish was left to be snatched by the competing 
hands of bigotry, and what was not protected by justice became the mangled 
jDre}^ of corrupted factions. Each faction had its separate interests, theo- 
ries, instruments, and ends ; and what could not be gained b}^ concession 
was claimed b}^ virtue of fanatic pre-eminence. Property was viewed as the 
rightful source of strength to the strongest, weakness the evidence of 
wrong, and resistance to oppression as a fearful heres}^, or a dangerous re- 
bellion. The people became the victims, successively, of an oppressive 
government, of religious frenzy, of insurrection, and of anarchy. They 



the vaults and cellars under the Parliament- 
house, twice a week. He feared another 
Gunpowder Plot. Sir James Perrot moved 
(1G20) "that all the members of the House 
might take the communion, which was the 
touchstone of their faith." — Pari. Deb., 
Vol. I, p. 1184. 

1 In the sixteenth century the Inquisition, 
and its kindred spirits everywhere, had 
concentrated the gaze of the world upon 
the single subject of toleration, — the 
freedom of opinion. Enormities were 
committed which made humanity shud- 
der, and mind began to question the 
soundness of a tlieory Avliich could not be 
reduced to practice without an aggregation 
of cruelties "■which robbed horror itself of 
.its sway over the soul." John Louis Vivos, 
, a Spaniard of great learning and reputation, 
bewails the fate of moderate and charitable 
I Catholics in Spain. In. a letter to Erasmus, 
.dated May 18th, 1534, he says : "We five 
in hard times, in which we can neither speak 
nor be silent without danger." In the 
forty-three years of the administrations of 
.the fir.st .four .Inquisitors-ge.neraJ, which 



closed m the year 1524, they committed 
eighteen thousand human beings to the 
flames, and inflicted inferior punishments 
on two hundred thousand persons more, 
with various degrees of severity. " Some 
of these occurrences in Spain," Sir James 
Mackintosh very properly remarks, "and 
the numerous executions in the Nether- 
lands, must have been well known in Eng- 
land about the period of the death of Mary, 
and could not fail to affect the state of 
opinion in that island, so much that a 
writer of English history cannot with justice 
exclude all mention of them in his narra- 
tive ; especially when the memorable cir- 
cumstances are considered, which we learn 
from the weighty testimony of the Prince of 
Orange, that the Spanish and French mon- 
archs meditated the extension over all 
Christendom of such a tribunal as the 
Inquisition had already shown itself to be, 
by its exercises of authority in Spain." 

The return of exiles from the seats of 
Calvinism in Switzerland, at the moment 
of Queen Elizabeth's accession to the 
throne, and the accumulated results of 



ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN COLONIES. 



99 



were either cramped hy monopolies/ or stretched b}' levellers.^ Either 
above the throne, or beneath its ruins. Alternatel}^ the subjects of paral}'- 
zing fears and elevating hopes, the}^ followed their var^'ing leaders to the 
clubs or private assemblies, participated in the secret plots, or rushed to 
join the gathering. mob. 

The fruits of industr}', instead of yielding comforts and protection to the 
laborer, sharpened the rapacity of the tax-gatherer, and aggi-avated the 
grievances of oppression. Traders became bankrupts ; mechanics, beggars. 
Mothers, wives and daughters, left the quiet but comfortless sphere of 
home, to join in tumultuous processions, bearing prayers to Parliament for 
relief from starvation.^ Young men and bo^'s, deprived of thriving masters, 



great teachers (WickhfFe, Huss, and Cal- 
vin) of the fifteenth century, combined to 
produce the events just noticed of the six- 
teenth, and in this period the people v^ere 
still further prepared for the revolutions 
which occurred in the seventeenth. 

1 In 1601 a most interesting debate took 
place in the House of Commons on a bill 
against monopolies. One member said that 
a monopolist might well be termed the 
wliirlpool of the prince's profit. Another 
member (the mover of the bill) said that it 
presented "no new invention," but was in 
accordance with the legislation of "their 
forefathers more than three hundred 
years before." Sir Robert Wroth said : 
" There have been divers patents granted 
since the last Parliament; these are now in 
being, namely, the patents for currants, 
iron, powder, cards, ox-shinbones, train- 
oil, transportation of leather, lists of cloth, 
ashes, aniseed, vinegar, sea-coals, steel, 
aquavitge, brushes, pots, salt-petre, lead, 
accidences, oil, calaminstone, oil of blubber, 
fumachoes, or dried piltchers in the smoak, 
and divers others." Upon reciting of the 
patents, Mr. Hackwell stood up and asked, 
"Is not bread there?" "Bread," quoth 
one. "Bread!" quoth another. "This 
voice seems strange," quoth another: "this 
voice seems strange," quoth a third. "No," 
quoth Mr. Hackwell, "but if order be not 
taken for these, bread will be there before 
the next Parliament." — Pari. Deb., Vol. i, 
p. 923. The e-vnls of monopoly were sadly 
multiplied in England, and the subject has 
always been a prominent one in Parliament. 



2 The Levellers insisted on an equal dis- 
tribution of power and property, and dis- 
claimed all dependence and subordination. 

3 On Pebruary 4th, 1641, Sergeant-major 
Skippon apphed to the House to know what 
was to be done with a crowd of Avomen who 
had appeared at the doors with a petition to 
the Commons for the redress of grievances ; 
they telling him "That where there was 
one now there would be five hundred the 
next day ; and that it was as good for them 
to die here as at home." Butler alludes 
most probably to this circumstance in the 
following couplet : 

" The Oyster-women locked their fish up. 
And trudged away to cry 'No Bishop,' " 

ffudibras, Part i, canto 2. 

" The House advised him to speech them 
fair," so says the record, "and send them 
home again : but this day they were as good 
as their words ; they came doAvn in great 
numbers, and presented a petition to the 
Commons, which was received and read." 
It is stated that "the petition was presented 
by Mrs. Anne Stagg, a gentlewoman, and 
brewer's wife, and many others with her of 
like rank and quality." Mr. Pym was 
appointed to reply to the " good women ; " 
which he did with becoming courtesy, prom- 
ising that members of Parliament Avould 
exert their utmost power to protect them, 
tlieir husbands, and their children, and 
closed his short address by entreating them 
to return home, and there to give Parlia- 
ment the benefit of their prayers. In 1643 
several thousand women appeared at the / 



100 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



left their work-shops unenlivened b}^ the din of labor, to find relief in the 
excitements of riot, rapine and destruction. What nature failed to present 
in shapes of forbidding reality, disordered imagination supplied in hideous 
phantoms of superstition. The spirit of witchcraft still lurked in the dark 
recesses of the human soul, and the voices of unholy tongues floated on the 
niidnio-ht air, and the cramps and twinges of invisible hands were felt in 
the weak and trembling nerves of the distempered.^ The government 
itself was thrown from its centre b}' contending parties, each controlling, in 
its turn, the business of a people, the interests of a nation. The rule of 
Britain was in process of change. The king, wanting in justice, ceased to 
be acknowledged as the legitimate sovereign, and like the humblest of his 
subjects, Avas made responsible for his misdeeds and errors.^ The Parliament 
as master or slave, was moulded into every variety of form, and placed in 
every variety of position. Free to control, or fettered by humiliating 
restraints ; banished by the usurpations of royalty, or paralyzed by dis- 
union, — the Parliaments of this period were the great engines of experiment. 
Exponents of public opinion, the}^ became the theatres of its fluctuating 
violence, illustrating the great principle that the possession of power is 
permanent only where there is purity of motive, conformity in practice. 

At this time the religious principle constituted the life-blood of the gov- 
ernment. The fear of God was seen everywhere in theory, however wanting 



ParhamGnt-house with a petition demand- 
ing peace. Sir John Hippisley, and two or 
three other members, were appointed to 
return for answer " That the House were no 
enemies to peace, and that they did not 
doubt, in a short time, to answer the ends 
of their petition; and desired them to 
return to their habitations." This answer 
proved unsatisfactory, and they were not 
prevailed upon to leave until the troops 
were called to force them. The troops at 
first, in firing, used nothing but powder; 
but they were ridiculed by the women, who 
threw brickbats at them. Bullets were then 
fired, and several women killed ; when the 
crowd slowly dispersed, crying out louder 
and louder, as they retired, " Give us those 
traitors that are against peace, that we may 
tear them to pieces! Give us that dog 
Pym ! " etc., Pym was out of favor. — Pari. 
Deb., Vol. ii, p. 1073; Vol. hi, pp. IGO, 
234, 235. 

1 "Demonology was a favorite topic with 
King James. He demonstrated, with eru- 
ption, the reality of witchcraft; through 



liis solicitation it was made, by statute, a 
capital offence. He could tell 'why the 
devil doth work more with ancient women 
than Avith others ; ' and hardly a year of his 
reign went by but some helpless crone 
perished on the gallows, to satisfy the 
vanity and confirm the dialectics of the royal 
author." — Bancroft's Hist. TJ. S., Vol. i, 
p. 293. 

2 At the time of the overthrow of Charles 
the First, the feeling of the people was that 
of intense hate against a king and mon- 
archy. The Commons ordered a new seal 
to be engraved, on which that assembly was 
represented, with this legend, " On the first 
year of freedom, by God's blessing restored, 
1648." The forms of all public business 
were changed from the king's name to that 
of the keepers of the liberties of England. 
The Commons intended, it is said, to bind 
the Princess Elizabeth apprentice to a 
button-maker ; the Duke of Gloucester was 
to be taught some other mechanical em- 
ployment. The king's statue in the Ex- 
change was thrown down, and on the 



ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN COLONIES. 101 

in practice.^ Clothed with authority, and combined with every yarietj' of 
mental development, condition and interest, this enduring element added 
zeal to purpose, energy to action, and persistence to will. Every party was 
known by its ecclesiastical standard. Conformity was required by all, but 
conceded by none. Great questions had been reached. New political 
problems were to be solved. Truths were to be defined, and doubts dissi- 
pated. Could freedom of opinion be tolerated, and the state preserved? 
Was conscience a principle of divine origin, or an opinion subject to 
human laws ? Did not the possession of power imply the relation of res- 
ponsibilitj^ for its uses ; and why should the great and increasing evils of 
heresy be permitted to sadden the righteous, or to weaken their hands in 
the holy cause with which they had been intrusted? What was the church? 
What was the state ? Was the state a part of the church, or the church a 
part of the state? Or, were the}^ independent of each other? These 
questions, and such as these, unnumbered in name and nature, were asked 
and answered, both by government and by the people. They had been 
known only as the questions of learned men and reformers. They were now 
the topics of a nation. Religious liberty was defined b}' government, — it 
was claimed by the people. Civil liberty was defined b}' the church, — it 
was claimed as the prerogative of Parliament. Privilege was defined by 
the Lords, — it was claimed by the Commons. The people b}' degrees had 
begun to think for themselves, — to realize the dignit}' of the human mind, 
the principle of human rights. 

On these momentous questions parties were formed. As the power of the 
government was the greatest seemingly within the reach of man, all sought 
to control its mighty agency, — each to advance an impulse, a theory, an 
interest, or all of these. Religious freedom was deemed incompatible with 
civil liberty. Government would not yield to the citizen, because its power 
exempted it from the necessity ; and the citizen refused submission to gov- 
ernment, except so far as it represented faithfully the objects of its creation. 
Each had become the keeper of the other. 

These inquiries had agitated the public mind, more or less, since the mid- 
pedestal these words were inscribed, "Exit as about a dozen members were met, they 
tyrannus, regum ultimus." The tyrant is began with prayer, and so continued pray- 
gone, the last of the kings. It was sarcas- ing, one after another, till there was a sufii- 
tically pretended that some of the republi- cient number assembled to make up a 
cans, in reciting the Lord's prayer, would House, and then the speaker took the 
not say " Thy kingdom come," but always, chair. — Pari. Deh., Vol. hi, p. 14:10. 
** Thy commonwealth come." — Hume, Vol. In the time of Charles the First, when 
V, p. 383. the Puritanical party had become strong, 

1 During the commonwealth of Cromwell, two clergymen of that sect, Marshall and 
Parliament voted that they had no occasion Burgess, were chosen to preach before 
for a chaplain. They sometimes voted to Parliament, and they entertained the mem- 
spend a whole day in " seeking the lord" hers with discourses seven hours in length ! 
in prayer. Their method was, that as soon So it is said by Hume, Vol. v, p. 142. 



102 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



die of the fourteenth centniy. Progress had been slow, but certain : results 
iiad been small, but glorious. What had been looked upon as too insig- 
nificant for formal recognition, had become comparatively speaking, in the 
seventeenth centmy, a powerftd party. 

THE PUKITANS IN ENGLAND. 

From the rights of the citizen the Puritan^ proceeded to examine the 
rights of government. He doubted all authorit}' but divine revelation, and 
questioned all laws but those of Christ and the prophets. The Bible was 
his statute-book and constitution, his text book of science and economics. 
It was received by all Christians as the book of God, and the Puritan 
received it in its entireness with reverence and sincerity. He asked for no 
other guide, he favored no other view, he acknowledged no other authority. 
He saw sacrilege in comparison, and eternal danger in doubt and hesitation. 
He sought to understand the destiny of man, by studying him as the child 
of God. He found dut}' portrayed in the requisitions of his Maker, and 
discovered a source of rewards greater than could be commanded by human 
governments.'^ He believed that all men were looked upon with equal favor 



1 Tlie name Puritan was applied to the 
non-conformists of England in the third 
century after Clirist. It was a term of 
reproach derived from the Cathari, or Puri- 
tans. It was used says Gov. Bradford, "to 
cast contempt the more upon the sincere 
servants of God." A writer quoted by 
Prince says, "They are called Puritans 
who would have the church thoroughly 
reformed ; that is, purged from all those 
inventions which have been brought into it 
since the age of the apostles, and reduced 
entirely to the scripture purity" The 
Plymouth colonists were called Pilgrims, 
a name given them by Hutchinson. Al- 
though this name is much used, and is 
associated with extreme and opposite opin- 
ions, still, with motives to convenience, 
the early colonists will generally be desig- 
nated in the present work as Puritans. 

Lathbury says, — " It should be observed 
that the term Puritan was applied indiscrim- 
inately to all who entertained scruples 
relative to conformity. It was applied to 
three distinct parties ; to the moderate Puri- 
tans, who never left the Church, to the 
present Presbyterians and to the Brownists." 
Hist. English Episcopacy, p. 54. 

It is not the purpose of this work to 



discuss the merits or demerits of any relig- 
ious denomination whatever. Religion is 
an eternal element in the Providence of God. 
Democracy was taught and practised before 
the Christian era, and since that period its 
great truths have been nobly defended, both 
by the Catholic and Protestant, — each in 
his own way. Both Christians and infidels 
have admitted the general fact, that the 
Puritans were democrats, and as such they 
find their place in history. In Froude's 
"address on Calvinism," he says, — 

" The Persians caught rapidly Zoroaster's 
spirit. TJncorrupted by luxury, they re- 
sponded eagerly to a voice which they rec- 
ognized as speaking truth to them. They 
have been called the Puritans of the Old 
World. Never any people, it is said, hated 
idolatry as they hated it, and for the simple 
reason that they hated lies." p. 30. 

2 In his lectures on Modern History, 
Professor Smyth gives advice to his audi- 
tors, which all Americans will readily 
approve. His language is: "You should 
learn to understand the character of the 
Puritan as soon as possible ; you must never 
lose sight of it, while reading this particu- 
lar portion of history " (the time of Queen 
Elizabeth). As the professor could not give 



THE PURITANS IN ENGLAND. 



lOB 



by the Creator, as the subjects of salvation ; and that all laws not in con- 
formity with this principle of impartial loA^e were unauthorized and unjust. 
He saw in the countenance of the peasant the divine image stamped with 
lines of beauty, as strongl}' and deeply as in that of the king ; and in tha 



in his course of lectures the details of 
history in a sufficient degree to convey a 
proper idea of the times, he selects a speci- 
men in the character of Peter Wentworth, 
a Puritan, and member of Parliament, and 
gives the substance of a speech which he 
delivered, and of his examination before a 
committee of Parliament. He continues : 
*' Wentworth was one of the most intrepid 
and able asserters of the privileges of the 
House, and being a Puritan, he was irre- 
sistibly hurried forward, not only by a 
regard for the liberties of the subject, but 
by religious zeal. Here, therefore, in 
Wentworth, we have immediately presented 
to us a forerunner of the Hampdens and 
Pyms, and, in Elizabeth, of Charles, the 
great actors that are to appear in the en- 
suing scenes : 

"Elizabeth, after stopping and controll- 
ing the debates and jurisdiction of the 
House on different occasions, at last com- 
missioned the speaker to declare, in conse- 
quence of a bill relating to rites and cere- 
monies in the church having been read 
three times, that it Avas the queen's pleas- 
ure ' that, from henceforth, no bills con- 
cerning religion should be preferred or 
received into this House, unless the 
same should be first considered and ap- 
proved by the clergy.' This was in 1575. 

"Wentworth, and, indeed, other mem- 
bers, had on former occasions not been 
wanting to the duty which they owed their 
country ; but this interference of the queen 
produced from him, some time afterwards, 
a speech which has not been overlooked by 
Hume, and is in every respect memorable. 
Far from acquiescing in the ideas which 
Elizabeth had formed of the prerogative of 
the prince, and of the duties and privileges 
of the Parliament, expressions like the fol- 
lowing are to be found in his harangue. 
You will observe the mixture of religious 
and patriotic feelings : ' We are assembled 
to make, or abrogate, such laws as may be 



to the chiefest surety, safe-keeping, and 
enrichment of this noble realm of England. 

I do think it expedient to 

open the commodities [advantages] that 
grow to the prince and whole state by free 
speech used in this place.' This he pro- 
ceeded to do on seven different grounds ; 
and he concluded, ' That in this House, 
which is termed a place of free speech, 
there is nothing so necessary for the pres- 
ervation of the prince and state as free 
speech, and without this, it is a scorn and 
mockery to call it a Parliament-house ; for 
in truth, it is none, but a very school of 
flattery and dissimulation, and so a fit 
place to serve the devil and his angels in, 
and not to glorify God and benefit the 
commonwealth.' And again; — ' So that to 
avoid everlasting death, and condemnation 
with the high and mighty God, we ought to 
proceed in every cause according to the 
matter, and not according to the . prince's 

mind The king ought not to be 

under man, but under God and under the 
law, because the law maketh him a king; 
let the king, therefore, attribute that to the 
law which the law attributeth unto him, — 
that is, dominion and power ; for he is not a 
king in whom will and not the law doth rule, 
and therefore he ought to be under the law.' 
And again : — ' We received a message, that 
we should not deal in any matters of religion, 
but first to receive from the bishops. 
Surely this was a doleful message ; for it 
was as much as to say, ' Sirs, ye shall not 
deal in God's causes ; no, ye shall in no 
wise seek to advance his glory.' .... 
We are incorporated into this place to 
serve God and all England, and not to be 
time-servers, as humor- feeders, as cancers 
that would pierce the bone, or as flatterers 
that would fain beguile all the Avorld, and so 
worthy to be condemned both of God and 
man. . . . God grant that we may 
sharply and boldly reprove God's enemies, 
our j)rinces and state ; and so shall every 



104 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



sweet smile of the humble orphan a soul as precious as any to be found 
within the palace gates. In ever}^ human form he recognized a brother, in 
ever}' kindred spirit a fellow-laborer. He saw in man a being created for 
eternity, a candidate for redemption, and alike the agent of power and the 
subject of just obedience. 



one of us discharge our duties in this our 
high office wherein he hath placed us, and 
show ourselves haters of evil and cleavers 
to that that is good, to the setting forth of 
God's glory and honor, and to the preserva- 
tion of our noble queen and common- 
wealth.' 

The speech is not short, and he goes on 
to conclude thus: — "Thus I have holden 
you long with my rude speech ; the which 
since it tendeth wholly, with pure con- 
science, to seek the advancement of God's 
glory, our honorable sovereign's safety, and 
to the sure defence of this noble isle of 
England, and all by maintaining of the 
liberties of this honorable council, the 
fountain from whence all these do spring, 
my humble and hearty suit unto you all is, 
to accept my good-will, and that this, that I 
have here spoken out of conscience and 
great zeal unto my prince and state, may 
not be buried in the pit of oblivion, and so 
no good come thereof.'" 

The examination before the committee of 
Parliament is here given entire, as printed 
in the Parliamentary Debates, Vol. i, p. 
793. Although of considerable length for 
a note, no considerate reader will desire to 
see it abridged. 

^^ Committee. Where is your late speech 
you promised to deliver in writing? Went- 
wortJi. Here it is, and I deliver it upon 
two conditions : the first is, that you shall 
peruse it all, and if you can find any want 
of good-will to my prince and state in any 
part thereof, let me answer all as if I had 
uttered all. The second is, that you shall 
deliver it unto the queen's majesty ; if her 
majesty, or you of her privy council, can 
find any want of love to her majesty or the 
state therein also, let me answer it. Com- 
m^ittee. We will deal with no more than 
you uttered in the House. Wentworth. 
Your honors cannot refuse to deliver it to 
her majesty; for I do send it to her majesty 



as my heart and mind, knowing it will do 
her majesty good; it will hurt no man but 
myself. Committee. Seeing your desire is 
to have us deliver it to her majesty, we will 
deliver it. Wentworth. I humbly require 
your honors so to do. Then the speech 
being read they said, — Committee. Here 
you have uttered certain rumors of the 
queen's majesty ; w^here and of whom 
heard you them? Wentworth. If your 
honors ask me as counsellors to her maj- 
esty, you shall pardon me ; I will make you 
no answer ; I will do no such injury to the 
place from whence I came ; for I am now 
no private person, — I am a public, and a 
counsellor to the whole state, in that place 
where it is lawful for me to speak my mind 
freely, and not for you,as councellors,to call 
me to account for anything that I do speak 
in the House ; and therefore, if you ask me 
as counsellors to her majesty, you shall 
pardon me, I will make no answer ; but if 
you ask me as committees from the House, 
I will make you the best answer I can. 
Com^mittee. We ask you as committees 
from the House. Wentworth. I will 
then answer you; and the willinger for 
that mine answer will be in some part 
so imperfect as of necessity it must be. 
Your question consisteth of these tAvo points, 
AYhere and of whom I heard these rumors? 
The place where I heard them was the 
Parliament-house ; but of whom, I assure 
you I cannot tell. Committee. This is no 
answer, to say you cannot tell of Avhom ; 
neither will we take it for say. Wentworth. 
Truly your honors must needs take it for 
an answer, when I can make you no better. 
Committee. Belike you have heard some 
speeches, in the town, of her majesty's mis- 
liking of religion and succession ; you are 
loth to utter of whom, and did use speeches 
thereupon. We7itworth. I assure your 
honors I can show 3'ou that speech, at my 
own house, written with my hand two or three 



THE PURITANS IN ENGLAND. 



105 



Their motives were both religious and political. "When the state became 
a party in defence of the church, the sectaries combined against the state. 
The friends of religious reform became politicians, and statesmen ecclesias- 



years ago. So that you may thereby judge 
that I did not speak it of anything that I 
heard since I came to town. Committee. 
You have answered that, hut where 
heard you it, then? Weniworth. If your 
honors do think I speak for excuse-sake, 
let this satisfy you; I protest before the 
living God I cannot tell of whom I heard 
these rumors ; yet I do verily think that I 
heard them of a hundred or two in the 
House. Committee. Then of so many you 
can name some. Wentwo-ih. No, surely, 
because it was so general a speech, I 
marked none ; neither do men mark speak- 
ers commonly when they be general ; and 
I assure you, if I could tell, I would not. 
For I will never utter anj-thing told me, to 
the hurt of any man, when I am not en- 
forced thereunto, as in this case I may 
choose. Yet I would deal plainly with you, 
for I would tell your honors so ; and if your 
honors do not credit me, I will voluntarily 
take an oath, if you offer me a book, that I 
cannot tell of whom I heard those rumors. 
But, if you offer me an oath of your author- 
ities, I will refuse it; because I will do 
nothing to infringe the liberties of the 
House. But what need I to use these 
speeches? I will give you an instance, 
whereupon I heard these rumors to your 
satisfying, even such a one as, if you will 
speak the truth, you shall confess that you 
heard the same as well as I. Committee. 
In so doing we will be satisfied. What is 
that? We7itworth. The last Parliament 
[by which it may be conceived he meant 
and intended that Pari, in An. 13 Reg. 
Eliz.] he that is now speaker [namely, 
Eobert Bell, Esq., who was also speaker in 
the first session of this present Pari, in 
An. 14 Reg. ejusdem] uttered a very good 
speech for the calling in of certain licenses 
granted to four courtiers, to the utter un- 
doing of six or eight thousand of the queen's 
subjects. This speech was so disliked of 
some of the council, that he was sent for; 
and so hardly dealt with, that he came into 



the House with such an amazed counten- 
ance, that it daunted all the House in such 
sort, that for ten, twelve, or sixteen days, 
there was not one in the House that durst 
deal in any matter of importance. And in 
those simple matters that they dealt in, 
they spent more words and time in their 
preamble, requiring that they might not be 
mistaken, than they did in the matter they 
spake unto. This inconvenience grew unto 
the House by the council's hard hand- 
ling of the said good member, whereupon 
this rumor grew in the house. ' Sirs, you 
may not speak against licenses : the queen's 
majesty will be angry, — the privy-council, 
too, will be angry, and this rumor I sup- 
pose there is not one of you here but heard 
it as well as I. I beseech your honors dis- 
charge your consciences herein as I do. 
Committee. We heard it, we confess, and 
you have satisfied us in this ; but how say 
you to the hard interpretation you made of 
the message that was sent into the House? 
[the words were recited.] ' We assure you 
we never heard a harder interpretation of a 
message.' Wentwot-th. I beseech your 
honors, first, was there not such a message 
sent unto the House? Committee. We 
grant that there was. Went worth. Then 
I trust you will bear me record that I made 
it not ; and I answer you that so hard a 
message could not have too hard an inter- 
pretation made by the wisest man in Eng- 
land. For, can there by any possible 
means be sent a harder message to a council 
gathered together to serve God than to say, 
* You shall not seek to advance the glory of 
God ' ? I am of this opinion, that there 
cannot be a more wicked message than it 
was. Committee. You may not speak 
against messages, for none sendeth them 
but the queen's majesty. Weniworth. If 
the message be against the glory of God, 
against the prince's safety, or against the 
liberty of this Parliament-house whereby 
the state is maintained, I neither may nor 
will hold my peace. I cannot in so doing 



106 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



tics. All were full of zeal, confidence and activity. Self-reliance was a 
prevailing feature of the age. All were doubted, but no one doubted him- 
self. The expansion of the religious principle burst the boundaries of the 



discharge my conscience, whosoever doth 
send it. And I say that I heartily repent 
me for that I have hitherto held my peace 
in these causes, and I do promise you all, 
if God forsake me not, that I will never 
during life hold my tongue, if any message 
is sent wherein God is dishonored, the 
prince perilled, or the liberties of the Parlia- 
ment impeached ; and every one of you 
here present ought to repent you of these 
faults, and to amend them. Committee. It 
is no new precedent to have the prince to send 
messages. [Then were two or three messa- 
ges recited, sent by two or three princes.] 
Wentwortli. Sirs, said I, you do very evil 
to allege precedents in this order. You 
ought to allege, good precedents to comfort 
and embolden men in good doing; and evil 
precedents to discourage and terrify men to 
do evil. Committee. But what meant you 
to make so hard interpretation of messages? 
Wentworth. Surely I marvel what you 
mean by asking this question. Have I not said 
so hard a message could not have too hard an 
interpretation ; and have I not set down the 
reason that moved me in my speech, that is 
to say, that for the receiving and accepting 
that message God has poured so great in- 
dignation upon us, that he put into the 
queen's heart to refuse good and whole- 
some laws for her own preservation ; which 
caused many loving and faithful hearts, for 
grief, to burst out with sorrowful tears ; and 
moved all Papists, traitors to God, to her 
majesty, and to every good Christian gov- 
ernment, in their sleeves to laugh the whole 
Parliament-house to scorn. Have I not 
thus said ? and do not your honors think it 
did so? Committee. Yes, truly. But how 
durst you say that the queen had unkindly 
abused herself against the nobility and 
people? Wentworth. I beseech your hon- 
ors, tell me how far you can stretch these 
words of her unkindly abusing and oppos- 
ing herself against her majesty's nobility 
and people. Can j^ou apply them any 
further than I have applied them ; that is to 



say, in that her majesty called the Parlia- 
ment of purpose to prevent traitorous perils 
to her person, and for no other cause ; and 
in that her majesty did send unto us two 
bills willing us to take our choice of that 
we liked best for her majesty's safety, and 
thereof to make a law promising her 
royal consent thereunto ; and did we not first 
choose the one, and her majesty refused it? 
Yet did not we, nevertheless, receive the 
other? And, agreeing to make a law 
thereof, did not her majesty in the end 
refuse all our travels? And did not the 
lord-keeper, in her majesty's presence, in 
the beginning of the Parliament, ""show this 
to be the occasion that we were called 
together? And did not her majesty in the 
end of the Parliament refuse all our travels? 
Is not this known to all here present, and 
to all the Parliament-house also? I beseech 
your honors discharge your consciences 
herein, and utter your knowledge simply as 
I do ; for in truth herein her majesty did 
abuse her nobility and subjects, and did 
oppose herself against them by the way of 
advice. Committee. Surely we cannot 
deny it; you say the truth. Wentworth. 
Then I beseech your honors show me if it 
were not a dangerous doing to her majesty 
in these two respects : — First, in weakening, 
wounding and discouraging the hearts of her 
majesty's loving and faithful subjects, 
thereby to make them the less able or the 
more fearful and unwilling to serve her 
majesty another time. On the other side, 
was it not a raising up and encouraging the 
hearts of her majesty's hateful enemies to 
adventure any desperate enterprise to her 
majesty's peril and danger? Committee. 
We cannot deny but that it was very dan- 
gerous to her majesty in those respects. 
Wentworth. Then why do your honors 
ask how I dare tell a truth, to give the 
queen warning to avoid her danger? I 
answer j'ou thus, I do thank the Lord my 
God, that I never found fear in myself to 
give the queen's majesty warning to avoid 



THE PURITANS IN ENGLAND. 



lor 



civil power. It was like the flood that overflows the banks, and spreads 
beyond the prescribed limits of past experience. Government was not 
prepared for the shock, and was lifted up and carried forward to new 
foundations. The creative power of mind, the cheering hopes of the soul, 
the fierce and impulsive propensities of man's common nature, were all cen- 
tred in the service of the religious sentiment. Society was overwhelmed 
with new views, feelings, and aspirations. Government lost its force and 
authorit}^, industry its reward, and home its securities. Families became 
insensible to the ties of kindred blood ; the golden bands of friendship tar- 
nished and crumbled ; the silken cords of love untwined and fell asunder ; and 
all seemed entranced in gazing upon a heavenl}^ vision which opened the 
Book of Life, and displaj^ed the glad tidings of another world, an eternal 
home for the repentant sinner. The interests of earth faded into insignificant 
shadows before the melting blaze of truth presented b}^ the hand of Almighty 
Power. Societ}^ looked out from its convulsive bosom to seek a freedom in 



her danger; be you all afraid thereof, if 
you will, for I praise God I am not, and I 
hope never to live to see that day ; and yet 
I will assure your honors that twenty times 
and more, when I walked in my grounds, 
revolving this speech to prepare against this 
day, my own fearful conceit did say unto 
me that this speech would carry me to the 
place whither I shall now go, and fear 
would have moved me to have put it out ; 
then I weighed whether in good conscience, 
and the duty of a faithful subject, I might 
keep myself out of prison, and not to warn 
my prince from walking in a dangerous 
course ; my conscience said unto me that I 
could not be a faithful subject, if I did 
more respect to avoid my own danger than 
my prince's danger. Herewithal I was 
made bold, and went forward as your 
honors heard ; yet when I uttered those 
words in the House, that there was none 
without fault, — no, not our noble queen, — 
I paused and beheld all your countenances, 
and saw plainly that those words did amaze 
you all ; then I was afraid with you for com- 
pany, and fear bade me to put out those words 
that followed; for your countenances did 
assure me that not one of you would stay 
me of my journey; yet the consideration of 
a good conscience, and of a faithful subject, 
did make me bold to utter it in such sort as 
your honors heard; with this heart and 



mind I spake it, and I praise God for it ; and 
if it were to do again, I would with the 
same mind speak it again. Committee. 
Yea, but you might have uttered it in 
better terms ; why did you not so? Weni- 
u'orih. Would you have me to have done as 
you of her majesty's privy-council do, to 
utter a weighty matter in such terms as siie 
should not have understood? To have 
made a fault, then, it would have done her 
majesty no good; and my intent was to do 
her good. Committee. You have answered 
us. Wenticorth. Then I praise God for 
it; and, as I made a courtesy, Mr. Seck- 
ford spake these words : Committee. Mr. 
Wentworth will never acknowledge himself 
to make a fault, nor say that he is sorry for 
anything that he doth speak ; you shall hear 
none of these things come out of his 
mouth. Wentworth. Mr Seckford, I will 
never confess that to be a fault, to love the 
queen's majesty, while I live ; neither will 
I be sorry for giving her majesty warning, 
to avoid danger, while the breath is in my 
body. If you do think it a fault to love 
her majesty, or to be sorry that her majesty 
should have warning to avoid her danger, 
say so ; for I cannot. Speak for yourself, 
Mr. Seckford. 

" Mr. Wentworth was committed to the 
Tower." 



108 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

harmony with its spiritual necessities. The spirit of religion became too 
mighty for the narrow limits of civil liberty in England. Democracy, com- 
bining religious zeal with patriotism, self-respect with the spirit of sacrifice, 
led the Puritans to seek a home in the wilderness, and to establish a church 
among the heathen. 

In their view, civil liberty was of no account without religious principle, 
and, based on religious principle, a government became an institution of God 
for the advancement of humanitj-. In England they saw a people divided 
and disheartened by the accumulated wrongs of the past, and in America a 
new land of promise. 

Thus, in the midst of a distracted people and changing government, was 
erected by the Puritans the standard of Democracy. They fearlessly 
asserted its glorious truths, and claimed for man that civil position in society 
for which he was so marvellously fitted by his Maker, and the exercise of all 
those privileges promised him in the Ploly Bible. Here was the great issue 
between the democratic and conservative parties of England,, in the seven- 
teenth century. 

'* There were," says M. Guizot, " two national wants in England at this 
period : on one side was the need of religious revolution and liberty in the 
heart of the reformation already commenced, and on the other was required 
political liberty in the heart of pure monarchy, then in progress ; and in the 
course of their progress these two wants were able to invoke all that had 
already been done in either direction. They combined. The party who 
wished to pursue religious reformation invoked political liberty to the assist- 
ance of its faith, and conscience against the king and bishops. The friends 
of political liberty again sought the aid of popular reformation. The two 
parties united to struggle against absolute power in the temporal and in the 
spiritual orders, a power now concentrated in the hands of the king." 

In the brief space given to the consideration of the origin and gradual 
formation of the democratic party in England, which resulted in peopling 
the American continent, and led to the revolutions which elevated Crom- 
vv'ell, and which caused the downfall of James II., it will be quite impossible 
to do but little more than classify events in a general way. 

The quotation from Guizot properly refers to a period of more than a 
century. National events can be studied with profit only in the extended 
relations of national existence. The revolution of Cromwell was the result 
of a combination of numerous religious sects, the growth of several genera- 
tions, and for a time united by the oppressive acts of a tyrant king. The 
next movement had more of a political character, and a closing period is to 
be found in the revolution of 1688. It was the succeeding wave of progress, 
in England, to that of 1643. 

The Puritans embarked in the Mayflower, as the representatives of 
Democracy. They knew its history in England ; their fathers had bequeathed 



THE PURITANS IN AMERICA. 109 

to them its responsibilities. ^ They had fought its battles, formed just con- 
ceptions of the blessings which it was calculated to yield and foster, and 
beheld with clear convictions the dangers to be pointed out and avoided, and 
the new safeguards to be secured and established. 

THE PURITANS IN AMERICA 

The political survey of the colonies here proposed is a general one, and 
extends from the settlement of the Pilgrims, at Plymouth, 1620, to the time 
of the Revolution and Declaration of Independence, 1776. During this 
period of one hundred and fift3'-six years, thirteen colonies had arisen. 
Each colon}^ had its own peculiar origin, growth and character, and is to be 
considered as a distinct political element. The object of the present general 
view is to become, in some degree, acquainted with those fundamental prin- 
ciples which guided our fathers in founding the American nation. Such a 
method of inquiry appears necessary to a clear understanding of the great 
outlines of the general subject. In the discussion of topics contemplated 
in this work, of course, a frequent return to the events of the colonies for 
illustration will be necessar}^ ; and whatever is omitted in the general survey 
will appear in its appropriate connection, in chapters devoted to the consid- 
eration of national measures. 

Much has been said and written in respect to the motives which constituted 
the moral strength of the Puritans.^ What enabled them to withstand the 
cruel treatment of a jealous government, and to survive the bitter persecu- 



1 It is even admitted by Hume, who only reformed Jesuitism, as Jesuitism is 

could approve of no government but that of nothing else but Popish Puritanism : and I 

a monarchy, that " so absolute, indeed, would draw out such an exact parallel 

Avas the authority of the crown (in the time between them, both as to principles and 

of Elizabeth), that the precious spark of practices, that it would quickly appear they 

liberty had been kindled and was preserved are as truly brothers as ever were Romulus 

by the Puritans alone ; and it was to this and Remus ; and that they sucked their 

sect, whose principles appear so frivolous principles from the same wolf." — De Lolme 

and habits so ridiculous, that the English on the British Constitution, p. 313. 

owe the whole freedom of their constitu- 2 << Let us not stultify ourselves," says 

tion." Hon. Joel Parker, "by the superlative folly 

"It is to the democratic puritans," says of regarding the Puritans as a band of 

De Lolme, "that the regeneration of narrow-minded sectaries, animated by no 

British freedom may in some measure be broad nor generous motives, who aimed to 

ascribed, — but their actions were not in- establish an exclusive community, from 

fluenced by the pure spirit of national in- which every one of broader sympathy and 

dependence, as in truth, like all political more tolerant spirit should be rigorously 

* patriots,' they only 'bellowed for liberty shutout." Exclusion of the promoters of 

to-day, that they might roar for power contention is not the exclusion of persons 

to-morrow.'" of the broadest sympathy and the widest 

"Puritanism indeed," says South, "is toleration. " Let us have a correct under- 



110 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



tions, which subjected them to almost every species of humiliation and 
suffering? 

The details of events through which they voluntarily passed, the scenes 
of mental agony and physical prostration which marked their gloomy way ; 
their extraordinary foresight and courage, their inward content, and their 
outward prudence and watchfulness, cannot be considered without intense 
interest, nor without lasting profit ^ Their simple story has been the theme 
of the ablest minds ; their deeds and relations, their opinions and institu- 
tions, make up the pages of unnumbered volumes ; and yet, we still pause 
and reflect in wonder, in view of how little has been said, and how much 
remains to be studied and truly understood. 

The Puritans were men. They were actuated by human motives. They 
understood the objects of life ; they saw and realized the necessities of exist- 
ence. They appreciated comforts, but not at the expense of duty. They 
honored the spirit of loyalt}^, but not at the expense of principle. Govern- 
ment was looked upon by them as a means of security, not of restraint. 
They saw in God a King above royalty, and in the Bible an authority above 
that of Parliament. They desired to live a godly life, but as citizens of a 
just government. 



standing of what the Puritans were in their 
day, which will lead us to very different 
conclusions. 

"They were non-conformists. It was 
their non- conformity, religious and civil, 
which brought them hither, to establish the 
principles of their non-conformity, in a col- 
ony to be based on the very foundations of 
their non-conformity." — Lecture, p. 84. 

1 In obedience to the queen, in 1593, a law 
was passed entitled An Act to keep Her 
Majesty's Subjects in Obedience. At this 
time the Puritans had greatly increased, 
and the sufferings which followed in the wake 
of tlie execution of this act were frightful. 
The prisons were filled, many families were 
banished, and some were put to death. It 
was declared by Sir Walter Raleigh, in 
Parliament, that there were not less than 
twenty thousand Puritans, divided into 
several congregations, in Norfolk and Essex 
and in the vicinity of London alone. Among 
the Puritan ministers were Smith, Jacob 
and Airsworth, the last, one of the most 
learned men of the age. Smith was con- 
fined in prison a year before he was even 



heard, and members of his church "were 
shut up in close rooms, not being allowed 
the liberty of the prison." "Here,'** 
says Neal, "they died like rotten 
sheep ; some of the disease of the prison, 
some for want, and others of infect- 
ious disorders." "These bloody men" 
(the High Commissioners), according to 
Barrow, in his supplication, "will neither 
allow us meat, drink, fire, lodging, nor 
suffer any whose heart the Lord would stir 
up for our relief to have any access to us ; 
by which means seventeen or eighteen have 
perished in the noisome jails, within these 
six years. Some of us had not one penny 
when we were sent to prison, nor anything 
to procure a maintenance for ourselves and 
families but our handy labors and our 
trades ; by which means not only we, but 
our families and children, are undone and 
starved." " That which we crave for us 
all is the liberty to die openly in the land of 
our nativity. If we deserve death, let 
us not be closely murdered, — yea, starved 
to death, with hunger and cold, and stifled 
in loathsome dungeons." — See NeaVs His- 
tory of the Puritans. 



LOVE OF NATIVE LAND. Ill 

They had not been indifferent observers of the glowing descriptions of 
navigators who had visited the continent ;^ and it would be a libel upon their 
memory to suppose that the}^ were insensible to the material qualities and 
charms of the New World, as connected with their personal tastes, wants, 
hopes, and propensities. They were distracted by no plans of socialism, nor 
were they troubled with any agrarian' theory, or transcendental speculations. 
They were religious men, endowed with an extraordinary- degree of common 
sense. They loved truth, without despising gain. The love of gain is an 
instinct of nature. It is a fundamental facult3\ It characterizes every 
society. It is apart of man's condition, — an element of the world's progress. 
The Puritans had it, — all have it. It cannot be disguised, — it should not 
be disowned. It is a noble instrument, though a despicable end. It is a 
convenient servant, but a degrading master. 

LOVE OF NATIVE LAND. 

The Puritans left behind a country that was still dear to them for the 
many comforts and delights in which they had been permitted to participate, 
and they could not divest themselves of the natural pride which had made a 
part of their existence from the cradle, as connected with the events of their 
country's joys, their country's glor}-. 

The soil of their native land had been consecrated by the gladsome sports 
of childhood, the privileges of j^outh, and by noble contests of successful 
manhood. There is an instinct implanted in the human heart which seems 
to hallow the atmosphere of infanc}-, and renders sacred the early scenes of 
existence. The first objects of sight, hearing and touch, become interwoven 
with the joj^ous and crowding thoughts of the 3'oung mind, and the associa- 
tions then formed constitute the spirituality of national feeling. 

" Mother country- " is no unmeaning phrase. It indicates a relation with- 
out which no citizen could be known, no nation could endure. It indicates 
a sentiment which lights up the eye of patriotism, nerves the strong arm of 
the warrior, fills the heart of the philanthropist, and distinguishes the man 
of public spirit from the grovelling creature of a sordid mind. A being 
insensible to its generous enthusiasm, or indifferent to its noble control, is 
looked upon by society with horror and indescribable contempt. 

To suppose that the Puritans were destitute, in any degree, of this inborn 



1 Columbus himself, in one of his letters ble ; their faces always smiling ; and so 
to Ferdinand and Isabella, describes the gentle, so affectionate, are they, that I 
Americans and their country thus : " This swear to your highnesses there i^ not a bet- 
country excels all others, as far as the day ter people in the world." At the present 
surpasses the night in splendor. The na- day such a statement requires no comment, 
lives love their neighbor as themselves ; —Smith's Description of New England. 
their conversation is the sweetest imagina- 



112 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

sentiment, in to rdlow an exception to n general law of human nature. To 
suppose even that the^' were indifferent to its influence, is to do them a gi'oss 
injustice, by appearing to forget their frequent and ardent declarations to 
the contrar}'. Their love of home was as sincere as their sense of dut}^ was 
powerful. The}' could neither conceal the one nor withstand the other. 
Thoy were made up as men of extraordinary- parts, deficient in none. They 
desired to stand upright before God ; and the}' preferred freedom in the 
Avilds of America to oppression in England, though they looked back upon 
their native land with tears and lamentations, as their great exemplar 
before them had turned weeping towards Jerusalem. 

POLITICAL RELATIONS OF THE PURITANS. 

The Puritans now stand in new relations, — the inhabitants of the western 
hemisphere. The}- are still regarded in the light of subjects of Great 
Britain, though invested with new and transatlantic povv^ers, and separated 
from the immediate control of old ones, by an assumed act of royalty. 
Their condition was one of stern realities. Wishes and common wants 
were swept away by dire necessities, and their recollections of the. past 
were shut out by constant and fearful apprehensions for the future. They 
stood alone. If the king granted them charters and patents, he promised 
them no army or fleet for protection ; and if they had his prayers and bles- 
sings, it was not because they were of any value, but because they cost him 
nothing. Royalty had condescended to exercise a doubtful power, by giv- 
ing them permission humbly to endeavor to take care of themselves, in the 
forests of a heathen land, — doubtless gratified more by a faint hope that a 
new source of revenue had been opened to the nation, by a class of trouble- 
some subjects, than by any motive of service entertained either for their 
profit or for their happiness. i 



1 " It has often been observed by me," of Parliament; no, nor for the king to 

says John Adams, " and it cannot be too grant charters to subjects to settle in for- 

often repeated, that colonization is casus eign countries. It was the king's preroga- 

omissus at common law. There is no such tive to prohibit the emigration of any of his 

title known in that law. By common law, subjects, by issuing his writ ne exeat regno; 

I mean tliat system of customs, written and and, therefore, it was in the king's power to 

unwritten, which was known and in force permit his subjects to leave the kingdom. * 

in England in the time of King Richard the " So that our ancestors, when they emi- 

First. This contimied to be the case down grated, having obtained permission of the 

to the reign of Elizabeth and lining James I. king to come here, and being never com- 

In all that 'time, the laws of England were manded to return into the realm, had a 

confined to the realm, and within the four clear right to have erected in this wilderness 

seas. There was no provision made in this a British constitution, or a perfect democ- 

law for governing colonies beyond the At- racy, or any other form of government they 

lantic, or beyond the four seas, by authority saw fit. They, indeed, while they lived, 



POLITICAL RELATIONS OF THE PURITANS. 113 

With a view distinctly to trace and understand tlie causes that have made 
the colonies what they are, it is necessarj^ that we should have a clear idea 
of their moral and political beginning. B}^ what authority did the Puritans 
land on the shores of the American continent ? What rights did they claim, 
and what were their principles ? Did the}^ look to Great Britain for a gov- 
ernment, or were they self-inspired to make their own laws, and to control 
their own destiny ? or, were they to be the subjects of two governments, 
— one of their own, and another imposed upon them by the king and Par- 
liament? These and similar questions crowd upon the reflecting mind, when 
turned to contemplate the desolate landing of the Pilgeim Fathers upon 
the Plymouth rock. 

The Puritans seemed to be solemnly impressed with the great responsi- 
bility of their position, both in respect to themselves and posterity. They 
were here as Christian citizens, in a state of natm'e, free to make a begin- 
ning according to their own convictions of dut3^ It was an opportunity^ 
not to be neglected, compromised, or postponed. The representatives of 
Democracy on board of the Mayflower, before landing, united upon the fol- 
lowing Compact : 

" In the name of God, amen ! We, whose names are underwritten, the 
loyal subjects of our dread sovereign lord, King James, by the grace of 
God, of Great Britain, France and Ireland, king, defender of the faith, &c., 
having undertaken, for the glory of God and advancement of the Christian 
faith, and honor of om- king and countr^^, a V03"age to plant the first colony 
in northern parts of Virginia^ do, b}^ these presents, solemnl}^ and mutually, 
in the presence of God and of one another, covenant and combine ourselves 
together into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and preservation, 
and furtherance of the ends aforesaid ; and by virtue hereof to enact, consti- 
tute and frame, such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, 
and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and conven- 
ient for the general good of the colony ; unto which we promise all due sub- 
mission and obedience. 

" In witness whereof we have hereunder subscribed our names, at Cape 



could not have taken arms against the King ment more than two hundred years ago. 
of England without violating their alle- 2 " The Pilgrims, by coming so far north, 
giance ; but their children would not have had got beyond the limits of the Virginia 
been born within the king's allegiance. Company, and accordingly their patent was 
■would not have been natural subjects, and of no value. On the return of the May- 
consequently not entitled to protection, or flower, in May, 1621, the Merchant Advent- 
bound to the king." — Life and Writings of urers applied in their behalf to the president 
John Adams, hy Charles F. Adams, vol. and council of New England for a grant of 
IV., p. 121. Novanglus, No. viii. the territory on which they had uninten- 
tionally settled. This, it seems, was readily 
1 " Man's extremities are God's opportu- accorded." — Young^s Chronicles^ of the Pil- 
nities," was a saying quoted in P^rlia- grims^ p. 1'14.. 

8 



Ill IIISTOKT OF DEMOCRACY. 

Cod, the 11th of November, in the year of the reign of our sovereign lord, 
King James of England, France and Ireland, tlie eighteenth, and of Scot- 
land the fifty-fourth. Anno Domini 1620." ^ 

This compact has been the subject of extravagant comment, both of ap- 
preciation and of disparagement. Some writers have discovered much and 
extraordinary wisdom in it, while others have been unwilling to admit that 
it was entitled to particular notice. It is quite possible that most men 
would agree in respect to the measure of its importance, if they were to 
view it in the same relations as to the past and future. The Puritans had 
left a land remarkable for its published laws, declarations, protests, and 
proclamations ; where government inhered in hereditary distinctions, and 
where human rights and immunities were defined and engrossed with great 
formalitj^ on parchment. The simplicity of common sense was a rare qual- 
ity in the Lords and Bishops, and no one will claim that it was a distin- 
guishing feature of the Commons. The public documents of England 
were characterized more b}^ a tedious verbosity than an acceptable perspic- 
uity ; and there had been an apparent ambition on the part of the framers 
of the laws to excel rather in habits of mysterious expression, than in that 
plain choice of words which appears to have a distinct object, and proceeds 
with directness to state it. It is to be regretted that American legislation 
is encumbered with similar evils, most of which may be traced to English 
sources. In view, therefore, of what the Puritans had been accustomed 



1 The following are the names subscribed to the compact, namely : 

Mr. John Carver f 8 * John Turner 3 

William Bradford f 2 Francis Eaton f 3 

Mr. Edward Winslow f 5 * James Chilton f 3 

Mr. William Brewster f 6 * John Crackston 2 

Mr. Isaac Allerton f 6 John Billington f 4 

Capt. Miles Standish f 2 *Moses Fletcher 1 

John Alden 1 *John Goodman 1 

Mr. Samuel Fuller 2 *Degory Priest 1 

*Mr. Christopher Martin f *Thomas Williams 1 

*Mr. William Mullens f 5 Gilbert AVinslow 1 

*Mr. William White f 5 *Edmund Margeson 1 

Mr. Richard Warren 1 Peter Brown 1 

John Rowland *Richard Britterige 1 

Mr. Stephen Hopkins f 8 George Soule 

♦Edward Tilly f 4 *Richard Clarke 1 

*John Tilly f 3 Richard Gardner 1 

Francis Cook 2 *John Allerton 1 

♦Thomas Rodgers 2 *Thomas English 1 

♦Thomas Tinker f 3 Edward Dotey 

♦John Ridgdale f 2 Edward Leister 
♦Edward Fuller f 3 In number, 100. 

[The number In each family is denoted by the figures ; those marked with an asterisk (*) died before tUe 
.end of March ; those with au obcUsk (t) brought their wives with them.] 



OBJECT OF POLITICAL HISTORY. 115 

alwaj^s to see at home, in all important public matters ; — in view of what 
was still more important to themselves in their future relations, — it must 
be confessed that the compact cannot be considered other than an extraor- 
dinary document. It may be termed, with great truth, a conservative 
beginning, comprehending a progressive democracy. It marked with bold- 
ness the circle of freedom, and recognized the great principles of justice 
and equalit}^ It turned back upon the past with all due expressions of I03'- 
alty, without any concessions of right, and placed the general good of the 
people on the broad foundations of a simple outline, which could be seen 
b}^ all, and misunderstood by none. That they should have been the authors 
of an act so important, and upon the meaning of which, for a period of 
more than two hundred ^^ears, there has been no division, is a fact worthy 
of serious remark, if not to be justified as a sufficient cause of wonder. 1 



INSTRUCTION, NOT SELF-AGGRANDIZEMENT, THE OBJECT OF POLITICAL 

HISTORY. 

In studying the institutions of a country with a desire to understand the 
various causes, whether latent or open, real or apparent, that have con- 
spired to build them up ; in all endeavors to trace and define the motives 
of their founders, our studies frequently lead to emotions of wonder, when 
the discovery is made that an extraordinar}'^ degree of human wisdom is 
proved, beyond all question, in their works. What was projected in out- 
line and executed with success, is ascribed to clearness of judgment in the 
application of principles. A succession of measures, sustaining a pro- 
gressive principle, is looked upon as a specimen of consummate wisdom. 
An accident, or an undesigned event, which ends in beneficial results, is 
clearly a smile from Heaven, — a providential dispensation. These habits 
of remark are not mentioned for the purpose of making exceptions to those 
acts of the mind which favor motives, and claim for the past all the glory 
which in truth and candor belongs to it. In no respect would we exert an 
influence to lessen the exercise of a just and wholesome veneration for the 



1 111 speaking of this compact, John demonstration that the nature of civil gov- 
Quincy Adams says : "This is perhaps the ernraent, abstracted from the political insti- 
only instance in human history of that pos- tutions of their native country, had been an 
itive original social compact which specu- object of their serious meditation. The 
lative philosophers have imagined as the settlers of all the European colonies had 
only legitimate source of government, contented themselves with the powers con- 
Here was a unanimous and personal assent, ferred upon them by their respective char- 
by all the individuals of the community, to ters, without looking beyond the seal of the 
the association by which they became a na- royal parchment for the measure of their 
tion. It was the result of circumstances rights and the rule of their duties." — Ora- 
and discussions which had occurred during tion^ delivered Dec. 22, 1802. 
their passage from Europe, and is a full 



116 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

labors and acliicvements of those pioneers of principle who accomplish 
much, but who seldom live to see the maturit}^ of their plans, or to realize 
the objects of their wishes. Such a purpose would be as unnatural as it 
would prove to be indefensible. Justly to appreciate the motives of those 
who are no longer present to speak for themselves, is a sacred duty. Still, 
while the principle of duty is acknowledged, it becomes the humble inquirer 
to approach the subject rather as one of instruction than of self-aggrandize- 
ment, — rather as the source of evidence of a divine control, than of the 
truth of those j^ropositions of philosophy v/hich, in view of the ordinary 
events of life as ordered b}^ Deit}^, give precedence to accident, or mis- 
take the infinite for the finite. Our subject is one of principles, not of 
men ; of ideas, not of things.^ In men and things illustrations are to be 
found which may tend to sustain a theory, or to expose a fallacy. But in 
all investigations which have for their aim the development of truth, as 
leading to a better and a higher practice, that error of confounding origi- 
nal causes with human motives should be carefully avoided. It must be 
remembered that democracy is no new sj^stem of modern times. ' 



DEMOCRACY IS NO NEW SYSTEM OF MODERN TIMES. 

Democracy has been asserted and defended in all ages. In ages of mental 
darkness it has been as the distant light to the feeble vision of the ignorant, 
— a goal to be reached, but not yet practically realized.^ Its broad dimensions 
and unfathomable depths were defined with as much clearness by the ancient 
prophets as they are by the wisest of to-day. The attributes of Deity have 
encircled a universe from eternity with their inextinguishable light ; and all 
people have reverently acknowledged their power, though but few have been 
able to gaze upon so brilliant a glory ,^ or practically to combine their sub- 
lime aspects with the affairs of humanity. 

The designs of men, who are the slaves of debasing appetites and unholy 
motives of ambitious control, may sometimes bear a semblance of success ; 
but their power is like the cable of sand to sta}^ the ship, or the bursting 

1" Ideas once generated live forever," dungeon, but to accustom him to the rays 

says a distinguished writer. of the sun. The blaze of truth and Uberty 

2 " It is absurd to ex/?gc^, but it is not ab- may at first dazzle and bewilder nations 
surd to pursue, perfection," is a remark of which have become half blind in the house 
Sir James Mackintosh. of bondage ; but let them gaze on, and they 

3 " There is only one cure," says Macau- will soon be able to bear it. In a few years 
lay, " for the evils which newly-acquired men learn to reason ; the extreme violence 
freedom produces, and that cure is /reec?om. of opinion subsides; hostile theories cor- 
When a prisoner leaves his cell, he cannot rect each other ; the scattered elements of 
bear the light of day ; he is unable to dis- truth cease to conflict, and begin to coal- 
crimmate colors, or recognize faces ; — esce ; at length a system of justice and or- 
but the remedy is not to remand him to his der is educed out of the chaos." 



CONTEST FOR THE GREATEST LIBERTY. 117 

bubble to hide the sun, when placed within the influence of the attributes 
of Infinite "Wisdom. 

By slow degrees onl}'^ has man been able to note the scale of so high a 
standard. Plis conceptions of the possible gradually become the incentives 
to new endeavors, and what seemed beyond the reach of human capacity 
becomes in process of time a visible reality in practice. It is thus that the 
outward world is made to conform to the loftiest requisitions of the inward 
mind, and that the end of being is made manifest by the great events of 
Pro^ddence. 

With high conceptions of the infinite, and with zealous convictions of a 
practical Democracy in regard to the finite, the Puritans took possession of 
the American continent ; not having the power to realize, even in the remotest 
degree of distinctness, the magnitude of the great work of which they were 
but the humble beginning. In making choice of the Western continent for 
a home, they acted in conformity to the instincts and sentiments of their 
nature, guided by an enlightened judgment. They erected the Democratic 
standard ^ without a single abatement of its loft}^ streamers, and commenced 
a contest for the greatest liberty. 

A CONTEST FOR THE GREATEST LIBERTY. 

This was natural. It is always so with people w^ho attempt to enlarge 
their national freedom. The great idea of libert}^, when left to act upon the 
popular mind, opens to the beholder a new world in its entiret}^, where 
motive apprehends no sin, where jealous}' has withered no passion. All are 
filled with a hope to do right ; none are conscious of a weakness that will 
lead to the commission of wrong. It is an opportunity seized upon with all 
the avidit}' which moves the soul let loose from arbitrary confinement, and 
inspires it to enjo}^ the utmost freedom, and to concede it. 

But, while it leaves the pure in heart to rejoice for a time in new privi- 
leges, it affords the corrupt and selfish a license to indulge in the commission 
of new crimes. It was so with ancient empires, where the people rushed 
forward to sustain the leaders of revolution, where all was promised and 
but little realized. It has been so in all the revolutions of France ; and in 
no country-, perhaps, has the great principle of freedom been more beauti- 
fully and truthfully anal3'zed than b}' the gifted minds of that powerful 
nation. It has been so in German}', where popular will is smothered by the 
cowardl}' alliances of impotent sovereigns, and where constitutions are flat- 



^ Judge Haliburton says : " They were all at home." — Rule and Misrule of the Eng- 
deraocrats, and alike hostile to the church lish in America,, p. 37. 
and state they had so cheerfully abandoned 



118 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACr. ' 

terecl into embiyo, and strangled at their birth. It was so in the vast do- 
minions of the great Czar, where the unfortunate Pestel and Ryleieff,^ and 
their confederates, became inspired by the democratic teachings of the Bible, 
and formed their secret liberty clubs throughout the empire, resolved to 
subvert the government, and establish one of equal rights. 

In reference to this principle of unreserved occupanc}', it is often remarked 
that, if revolutionists would attempt less, they would accomplish more. 
This has often been said of France. But how the exertion of a lesser power 
is to surpass that of a greater, is far from being explained in the terms of 
such a proposition. In all rebellions there is a declaration of right, and a 
public discussion of principles. The gain from such movements is one of 
knowledge ; and, as an element of progress, is of far greater consequence 
than the slight concessions of arbitrary power. 

This disposition of the human mind to extend its control to the entire 
limits of its own conceptions is one of incalculable importance. It fills 
with human effort the entire circle of moral duty ; and new truths are early 
discovered, that they may be prepared to meet the wants of coming periods. 

In the settlement of the American continent, the colonists were placed in 
new relations, which they began immediately to define, and to surround with 
their best means of defence. With just motives in regard to safet}^, they 
claimed all without resort to violence the}^ had the power to protect, and 
they required all they had the power to enforce. They came out as a party 
to enjoy the blessings of Democrac}', but soon became a commonwealth 
subject to part}' divisions. They had exchanged the humble position of 
individual responsibilit}^ for that of public control ; and what had been 
claimed for themselves as a right in England soon became dangerous to 
grant to others as a privilege in America. With the accumulated resulls 
of experience, and with their views of public dutj-, the Puritans possessed 
all those stern elements of character requisite for the settlement of a new 
countr}'. The}' were as well established in their determination what to 
avoid, as they were firm in executing the plans chosen and approved l)y 
their judgment. They were democratic republicans in principle, and they 
were resolved to be truly so in practice. But the great subject involved in 



1 Ryleieff was a poet, and a great admirer fell to the ground, the rope being badly 
of Washington, and of the institutions of adjusted. Although stunned, at first, by the 
the United States. He undertook to com- fall, Ryleieflf walked with a firm step, but 
plete the Catechism of the Free Man, com- could not help uttering this painful exclama- 
menced by N. Mouraviefi"; and he wrote tion, — " Must it be said that nothing sue- 
both prose and verse in favor of freedom, ceeds with me, not even death ! " Accord- 
Seditious songs of his composing were ing to some witnesses, he also exclaimed, 
circulated among the people. At the time "Accursed country, where they know 
of execution, three of the five conspirators neither how to plot, to judge, nor to hang." 



CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL EXISTENCE. 119 

a profitable consideration of the colonies is that of the conditions of national 
existence. 



THE CONDITIONS OF NATIONAL EXISTENCE. 

What are the elements of national power, of national greatness ? In what 
do the}^ consist, and on what do they depend ? 

The American colonists of the seventeenth century, and many of their 
successors of the eighteenth, have long been tenants of the tomb, sleepers 
in the dust. Their bodily presence has crumbled with the humble slabs 
which mark their graves ; but their children's children, their country and 
their country's institutions, have become the hope of humanit}^, the o-lory 
of the world. 

In their stead millions tread the continent. The Indian, whose swaj^ was 
the dread of the Puritans, and whose range was co-extensive with the conti- 
nent, now knows no countr}^, counts no tribe, forms no nation. His race 
has ceased to make a part of humanity, except in subservienc}^ to civilization. 
His hunting-grounds have been shorn of their wildness, and the eve of the 
surveyor has scaled the mountain heights, and fathomed all the streams. 
Their water-falls have been harnessed by the hand of industry to subserve 
the interests of man, and their broad lakes and rivers bear upon their bosom 
the freighted wealth of nations. The forests have fallen before the wood- 
man's axe ; and where beasts were tenants, the might}' powers of civilization 
preside. Where the trail of the native marked the secluded soil of the wil- 
derness, the terrific engine of the railroad moves with resistless force and 
impetuous speed, translating the hill to the valley, the mountain to the 
ocean, and the population of the country from city to city, giving to all 
frequent opportunities to witness the unnumbered scenes of industry, beauty 
and munificence, which everj^where mark the land. Where humble settle- 
ments struggled to find the means of existence, states have risen out-rivallini^ 
ancient empires, and the vast continent, which was then visited by the few 
of almost every nation, has become the territory of a people whose o-overn- 
ment rests upon the illimitable basis of that Democracy recognized by the 
Puritans, and whose institutions have become the wonder of the civilized 
world, and the dread of despotism. 

Who does not join, with a sense of unconquerable amazement, in the 
inquiries, — Whence these mighty results ? Where are the sources of such 
boundless streams of causation? In what form can men behold the princi- 
ples which have given birth to such examples of benevolence and grandeur, 
to such harmonious designs of duty and noble activity- ? 

It is not to the possession of wealth that we are to look, for this was death 
to the greatness of Spain. The colonists were poor.. It is .not to be 
ascribed to the principle of monarchy ; for, with all her kings and. queens,. 



120 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and illustrious statesmen, Great Britain has j-et to discover the true causes 
of popular discontent, the sources of public prosperity-. The colonists were 
republicans. It is not to the acquisitions of philosophy in the lands of a 
Kant or of a Cuvier that the mind is to be directed for a solution of such 
questions, for their countries have been the scenes of frequent revolution, and 
still remain as significant examples of how little human misery is lessened by 
human learning. The colonists were w^orking men.^ Nor can an answer 
be found in the mightj' army of Kussia, where martial law is government ; 
nor in the Celestial Empire, where ignorance is safet}", and activity treason. 
These nations are still bound by the strong chains of despotism, sustained by 
a multitudinous soldiery ; and vast masses of human beings linger in hope- 
less indifference to the highest emotions of the soul, and passively submit 
to suffering as the birthiight of freemen. The colonists were their own 
protectors, their own teachers. 

Where, then, shall the common mind be directed for instruction on this 
exalted theme ? Where find the primary influences that prepare the mind 
for that loft}- exercise of the virtues which dignify and adorn individual 
character, and enlarge the motives that hold sacred the rights of a citizen, 
and with extended arms of power encompass and protect, with equal cer- 
taintj-, the great interests of a nation ? Where, but to the eternal source of 
truth and justice ? Where wisdom adapts itself to the constitution of things, 
heeding the lessons of the past, relying upon knowledge, protecting the 
present by a government of laws, and, jealous of rights, providing for the 
future by the institutions of education and religion ? Where motives are 
characterized by divine attributes of love and integritj-, and truth is illus- 
trated by examples of the self-sacrificing spirit of devotion to dut}', clothed 
with a power that knows no glory but in the happiness of its subjects ? 
Influenced by such motives and principles, the Puritans began their work. 



THEIR HABITS OF APPLICATION AND PRUDENCE WERE EARLY 

ESTABLISHED. 

The}' knew no pride but in duty, no ambition but in sacrifice. Their 
hopes had long been chastened by the strong arm of an oppressive govern- 
ment, and their anticipations were circumscribed by an experience that 
indulged in no extravagant promises. Wants were limited to the narrow 



1 "As for this poor Relation, I pray you thing, it is their ignorance, that are better 

to accept it as being writ by the several acquainted with planting than writing." — 

actors themselves, after their plain and Robert Cushmaii's Letter from Plymouth, 

rude manner. Therefore doubt nothing of in 1G21. 
the truth thereof. If it be defective in any- 



FORMATION OF CHARACTER AIDED BY EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 121 

compass of stern necessities, and pleasiu'cs restrained within the sober 
bounds of duty.^ The idea of luxur}^ was banished from the mind, as 
incompatible with its necessities, and habits of idleness and of frivolity 
were looked upon with a horror next to that of death to the body, or disso- 
lution to the state.2 They promptly rejected all speculative propositions, 
and discountenanced all doubtful experiments. They looked upon loss of 
any kind with fearful apprehensions. Their possessions were small, their 
numbers few, their visible power insignificant. Time and mind were their 
only capital, opportunit}' their onl}^ privilege.^ A constant activity, a per- 
petual vigilance, a self-reliance that centred in God, a firmness that yielded 
to nothing but death, were the undeviating and only conditions upon which 
the}' could be saved and continued. In their boldness they were cautious ; 
in their prudence, courageous. With what indomitable pertinacitj' they 
adhered to their plans and executed their puqooses, may be seen in the 
numerous events recorded b}' the historian.^ 

rORMATION OF CHARACTER AIDED BY EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 

But in the estimate of human character, it is not to be forgotten that man 
is constantl}' surrounded, influenced and controlled, b}' agencies which 
inhere in the constitution of things. Man stands not alone. He may be 
the " tenth, or ten-thousandth " link in the great chain of the moral uni- 
verse. He seems to will as he likes, but he cannot alwa3-s act as he wills. 
He is prone to believe himself the primary- agent of power, when he is but 
the humble subject of submission. Law pervades all the faculties of his 
being, all the circumstances of life. These are controlled b}' laws, and 
according to laws they are governed and exercised. Placed in relation to 
external objects, man is everywhere favored or opposed by the phenomena of 
existence. He breathes an atmosphere adapted to his bodilj' wants. He 



1 Josselyn, who visited New England in they care not; they must not foul their hand 
1638, says : " July 10, I went ashore upon nor wet their foot. It's enough for them to 
Noddle's Island, to Mr. Samuel Maverick, say, Go you,— not. Let us go,— though 
the only hospitable man in all the country, never so much need. Such idle drones are 
giving entertainment to all comers gratis." intolerable in a settled commonwealtli, 
In 1635, the General Court manifested its mucii more in a commonwealth which is but 
high displeasure at his extravagance. — as it were in the bud." — Robert Cushmans 
Young's Chronicles of Massachusetts^ p. Discourse to the Colonists, 1621. 

322. 3 Want of punctuality was made a penal 

2 "There is a generation which think to offence. 

have more in this world than Adam's felicity -* Read "History of the United 
in innocency, being born, as they think, to States, from the Discovery of the 
take their pleasures and their ease. Let the American Continent," by George Ban- 
roof of the house drop through, tliey stir croft. This writer discusses national topics 
not; let the field be overgrown with weeds, with ability and eloquence. 



IIISTOr.Y OF DEMOCRACY. 

treads the earth subject to all its laws. He thinks and acts in harmon}' with 
his spiritual being ; and whether the agent or subject of power, — the ob- 
server of objects or the object observed, — the man, the citizen, the ruler, or 
the ruled, — he finds himself but an humble part of the mighty whole, the 
active or the passive element of society. From the cradle to the grave, he 
passes tlirough all the social and national relations of good and evil, power 
and want. He is both a contributor and a receiver of benefits. He is alike 
the subject of favor and of adversit}', of pleasure and of pain. He suc- 
ceeds or he fails, in the execution of his plans, according to the measure of 
his wisdom or the folh^ of his habits ; and his life is one of ease or of hard- 
ships, according to the age in which he lives, or the principles b}^ which he 
is governed. In whatever position he stands, the great work of Providence 
is advanced with irresistible force, to the accomplishment of the designs of 
"divine beneficence. Oppression, adversity, hardships and suffering, with 
their appalling train of unwelcome events, are transformed by the hand of 
Deity into sources of moral strength and spiritual endurance. 

In all these relations of trial the Puritans were placed. They were tested 
and proved in relation to the simple elements of things. They commenced 
with the first principles of social and .national growth, and guarded the 
sources of influence in their earliest risings. The comparatively sterile and 
rock-bound soil of New England, and the severit}' of the climate, rendered 
labor a necessity- ; and thus were established permanent habits of industr}'. 
With no conventional aid to sustain them, they sought out the resources of 
individual existence, and found an aid in ever}' circumstance, an ally in 
every object. They had faith in God and nature, and by God and nature 
the}' were sustained, exalted, and advanced. 



NATIONAL SOVEREIGNTY. 

The chief element of national existence is sovereignty. It is political 
independence, an efficient state of self-direction in a government. It is com- 
prised in the condition of ability, — an ability that is equal to the control of 
internal and external governmental emergencies. It comprehends the man, 
the citizen, the nation, and all their relations of duty and alliances of power. 
It is the embodiment of conventional power in its greatest efficiency ; and, 
while it is alive to all the conditions by which it is preserved, it yields 
nothing to the spirit that seeks to abridge its prerogatives. The compact 
of individuals may recognize the principle, but the reality is a result of the 
slow process of successful endeavor and defence. 

In sovereignty, properly understood, are to be found all the great princi- 
ples which inhere in the spirit of liberty. Its degrees range from the indi- 
vidual to the nation from the smallest conventional forms of ors^anizationto 



NATIONAL SOVEREIGNTY. 123 

that of government itself in its mightiest fanctions. The completeness of 
the whole depends upon the comioleteness of its parts. 

. The colonists did much to develop this great principle. It was practi- 
cally conceded to them b}^ the crown. The Charter granted to Massachus- 
etts, dated March 4, 1628, stipulates to "the Governor and Company, and 
their successors, — that it shall and maj' be lawful to and for the chief com- 
manders, governors and officers of the said Company for the time being 
who shall be residents in the said part of New England in America by 
these presents granted, and others there inhabiting, by their appointment 
and direction, from time to time, and at all times hereafter, for their special 
defence and safety ; to encounter, expulse, repel and resist, by force of 
arms and by all fitting wa^'s and means whatsoever, all such person or 2)er- 
sons, as shall at any time hereafter attempt or enterprise the destruction, 
detriment, or annoj^ance to the said plantation or inhabitants, and to take 
and surprise b}' all ways and means whatsoever, all and every such person 
or persons with their ships, armor, munition, and other goods, as shall in 
hostile manner invade, or attempt the defeating of the said plantation, or 
the hurt of the said Company and inhabitants." ^ 

Let the principle be carefully studied, in its various conditions of ad- 
vancement. Still, with this idea of sovereignty in regard to the American 
settlements, the colonists acknowledged the King of Great Britain as their 
lawful sovereign. The admission however, was merely technical. It was 
not even theoretical. Many of the colonists had long been democratic 
republicans. They were so still. It must be remembered that republican- 
ism is not always democrac}-, although it would be difficult to find an ex- 
ample of democrac}^ that was opposed to republicanism. The one relates to 
form, the other to principle. This view does not involve the necessity of 
doubting their loyalty, because they had not yet discovered that the feeling 
of sovereignt}^, which they had realized, was inconsistent with their alleg- 
iance as subjects of a monarchy. They had not j^et been entirely per- 
suaded of the practicability of a republic ; and, while religious liberty was 
to them a subject of paramount importance, they were not disposed to test 
the question of form, where they had promised themselves the enjoyment 
to be realized in the practice of principle. 

Sovereignty that is based upon the exercise of absolute power is consoli- 
dation. Though consolidation strictly refers to the uniting of parts which 
have already existed, still the term may be used, perhaps, as significant of 
absolutism. It has but a single reliance. It is self relying upon self. If 
it fails in self, it has no alternative but to fall. It is the will of a single 
mind reduced to the narrow scale of individual wisdom. 

Sovereignt}' that is based upon Democrac}' is subordinate to fundamental 
principles. Ever}- form of power is a warrant of secmity. Great interests 

1 Lecture by Joel Parker, p. 11. 



12i HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

have their own safeguards, and what protects one protects all. It com- 
mences with the individual. It is self-knowledge, self-control. It extends 
to the family and to the social circle. In them it is the entire fullilment of. 
duty in the private relations of life. With a regulating hand it advances 
with the common interests of society, and towns^ and cities, as such, become 
each its own master and protector. That is, in the settlement of certain 
interests, the}^ exercise a supreme authority-, admitting of no appeal. Still 
enlarging its circles of control to meet the wants and emergencies of society, 
towns and cities are formed into states, and states into empires. Treaties 
are negotiated, alliances are formed, and national law defined and promul- 
gated, and thus the civilized world is subdivided by man, in view of his 
wants, interests, and necessities. These classifications are not arbitrar}', — 
the}^ inhere in nature. They are the legitimate results of natural causes, and 
exist in harmony with the natural laws. What self-respect is to the indi- 
vidual, and duty to private life, sovereignty is to the town, to the state, to 
the empire. It is a primary law of moral and political existence, and is to 
conventional power what identity is to person. It is found to be limited or 
extended, according to the capacities of the individual or the people. In 
relation to progress, it is either complete or incomplete ; that is, nominal 
or real. Language is inadequate for definition. And in this connection 
the great distinction should be observed which exists between religious and 
political independence. The sovereignty of the religious w^orld centres in 
God, and is perfect. Political sovereignty is conventional, and centres in 
man ; and is more or less complete, according to the degree of his perfec- 
tion. It is a sovereignty of progress, a sovereignt}^ that recognizes the 
necessity of improvement, but which surrenders no prerogative of 
principle. 

It forms a most beautiful as well as instructive subject, to see with what 
completeness the elements of national existence combined to aid the Puritans. 



1 "TVe may, however, be sure of one well-established fact, that the people are 

point," says Lord Brougham. " Democracy democratic in the same degree that they.are 

is much more natural to towns or cities than justly informed. To say that " local assem- 

to country districts; and here it may be biles " and " tov/n-meetings " constitute the 

observed that in general popular govern- strength of a nation, is to assert in other 

ments, either on the aristocratic or demo- words, that tlie people themselves are the 

cratic model, have at all periods of the source of national strength, which is true, 

world been more usually established in the These frequent neighborhood meetings give 

towns than in the country." opportunities for mutual instruction, and 

De Tocqueville says: — "Local assem- hence their great importance, 

blies of citizens constitute the strength of The town government was derived from 

free nations. Town-meetings are to liberty tlie authority of Scripture. In the "^4i- 

Avhat primary schools are to science; stract of Laws and Government," proposed 

they bring it within the people's reach, they by John Cotton, in 1655, the following 

teach men how to use and how to enjoy it." passages are quoted : Deut. IG : 18 ; Exod. 

These admissions are in harmony with a 18: 21, 22; Jer. 36: 10 — 12. 



NATIONAL SOVEREIGNTY. 125 

All nations and nature opened sources of life, interest and strength to the 
New England colonies. 

The power of the Indians insui'ed union to the white man, and their 
divisions gave allies. Territory was as free to the pilgrim as air to the 
outcast. This is a primary condition to independence. Without territor}', 
equitably divided among men in the commencement of a community, inde- 
pendence is impossible. It is the foundation of interest, as interest becomes 
the leading element in the foundation of power. It gives to everj^ man, 
town, state and nation, a boundary-line to protect, a class of interests to 
promote. Genius becomes graduated to the sphere of its incentives, and 
industr}^ confines its labors to the limits of human motives. All become 
workers with distinct objects in view, and each class of men accomplish not 
only a private end, but a common good. 

Here was to be seen what has proved to be of incalculable value to the 
American Union, — the great principle of state sovereignty, ordinarily denom- 
inated State Rights.^ The party lines in respect to this subject were early 
and deepl}^ drawn. The perpetual topics of discussion, to be found in all 
nations, in reference to land titles and boundarj'-lines, were prominent ones 
in the colonies. The contest was confined to no company, to no section. 
All became alike involved. The influence of interest was combined with 
that of national pride, and what was wanting in reason was more than sup- 
plied by prejudice. National rivalries and antipathies, with all the bitter- 
ness of accumulated hate, had their sway in the business of defining the 
charters and patents of the king, and in adjusting conflicting titles, — diffi- 
culties which designing men had contrived, or ignorance had permitted. 
"WTiat a spectacle to behold ! Insignificant and 3'et distinct bands of citi- 
zen adventurers, just arrived and scattered in a wilderness, and already 
engaged in earnest controversies concerning territorial rights ! Every cIa'- 
ilized nation had its representative in some active position. It is true the 
difl'erent colonists were not here to act by authority of the government of 
their respective nations. The}" were invested with a superior power. The 
uncompromising spirit of nationality, incorporated, as it were, in the pass- 
ions of the individual, was everj^where alive, native responding to native, 
and each appealing to the government of his home for j^rotection. In all 
these conflicts, the natives of England, Scotland, France, Sweden and Hol- 
land, were more or less concerned, and entered into combinations charac- 
terized by local interest and national peculiarities, as various as the lights 
and shades of the setting sun depicted upon the rocks and dells of the 
mountain-side. 

No colony was exempt from these territorial difficulties, and it is ta be 



1 In this connection allusion can only be subject. It will be more fully considered 
made to the elements of this important in another place. 



126 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

hoped that no state is to be found where the results of these early contests 
are not perraanentl}^ preserved in an immovable attachment of the people to 
the democratic doctrine of state sovereignt3\ State sovereignty is to the 
nation what the breakwater is to the cit}^ upon the sea-side. It is defence 
against accumulated force indefinitely exercised. Its prerogatives consist 
in the absolute control of its own rights as a state, in the exercise of its own 
power as a sovereignt3^ When viewed in their relations to the govern- 
ment, the diflference between a freeman and slave is not greater than that 
existing between a sovereign state and a subordinate department of a con- 
solidated confederac}'. Without a bill of rights, there can be no sure free- 
dom of person ; without state sovereignty, protected by a constitution, 
there can be no securit}- to a republic. An indispensable condition to sov- 
ereignty is to be found in the exercise of equal rights. 

THE EXERCISE OF EQUAL RIGHTS. 

No one will contend that equal rights can spring from unequal begin- 
nings, or unequal conditions. In old countries the difficulty of such a 
beginning, or condition, must be obvious to all. It is, indeed, an inadmiss- 
ible supposition. It is an event impossible. It is be3^ond the reach of 
law, without involving the dangers of revolution ; and it is beyond the reach 
of revolution, without ending in anarchy. The unequal results of imperfect 
laws and institutions, — the diversified conditions of men as traceable to the 
varied capacities of mind, — are not to be levelled b}^ the hand of govern- 
ment, nor harmonized by the inefficient theoretical influences of social 
communities.^ 

Practical industr}^ thrives best wdiere competition is most active, and suc- 
cess is most certain where individual enterprise is most encouraged. If 
ever}^ man acts for himself, provided his standard of duty is in harmony 
with the good of others, he is adding character to society, and wealth to the 
state. 

EQUALITY IS BEST COMMENCED IN POVERTY. 
In this relation, poverty is an indispensable condition to equal rights. It 

1 France is in a condition of unequal Socialists have their great errors, but their 

development. In some respects the nation extravagance may command attention where 

is in advance of all others ; but it must be prudence would not be heard. They are 

admitted that in other important particulars working to supply an evident want, but they 

it is comparatively deficient. The family ask too much. With an honest intent to 

and the town organizations are wanting, supply a part that is wanting, they commit 

While Paris is France, France must be the serious error of proposing to do it at the 

cramped by Paris. The popular will, like expense of the whole, already established, 

an unguarded ocean ingulfs the boundaries Great evils require special and extra- 

of riglit. The tides of impulse and ignor- ordinary remedies. Even when much is 

ance still defy the limits of judgment. The asked, but little is gained. 



EQUALITY IS BEST COMMENCED IN POVERTY. 127 

is to capacity what territory is to persons. It is an open field for endeavor, 
equally free to all, though all are not endowed with equal abilit}' to culti- 
vate it. Every man according to his talents. Povert}^ has the powerful 
and inventive aid of necessity. It hinders no motive but that of extrava- 
gance ; it favors no act but that of economy. It has no promises of great- 
ness for ambition, no golden bribe for corruption. To pride and jealousy it 
offers no fuel for the flame of passion, and envy is disarmed by the meek- 
ness of its bearing. 

But the reader must not confound the poverty of possession with the pov- 
erty of sentiment. A man may stand forth in the true dignity of his natm-e, 
honoring God, helping man, comprehending and enjoying the true luxuries 
of life, the happiness of virtue, the independence of integrit}^, the delights 
of religion, and be unable to command the, wealth sought b}^ commerce, or 
which misers grasp with a death-like selfishness. He is poor in possession, 
but rich in the best gifts of humanit}'. On the other hand, a man ma}^ look 
upon material wealth as the great object of existence. His ambition may 
be graduated to the grovelling scale oY gain, without regard to principle, 
control or good. He may be as rich as a Rothschild, or an Astor, or a 
Stewart, but in spirit poorer than the meanest beggar that sues for charity 
in the streets of the metropolis. The biograph}' of such a person may be 
comprised within the meaning of two insignificant words : here and there. 
He was born, he died. He and all his possessions were here^ they are now 
there. He acquired propert}^, but did not use it. He existed, but did not 
live. 

In a miser's view the Puritans were poor. As nature's noblemen, none 
could boast of greater riches.^ Thej' sought for aid in industr}^, character, 
and religion. With these, success was certain ; without these, impossible.^ 
Their chief aim, when embarking for America, seemed to be comfortably to 



1 Gov. William Bradford, it is said, was is recorded, by Dr. Thatcher, as the richest 

the richest man in Plymouth Colony, when man in the colony. He lived a century 

he died. The amount of his property was later. He acquired an estate worth tAvelve 

about nine hundred pounds. He died in hundred and fifty pounds. 
1659. The next in rank for wealth was Miles 

Standish, who died in 1656. His property 2 it is an old saying, that "virtue perfec- 

was estimated at about four hundred pounds, tionates herself by resisting assaults." 

Wages at this time, it must be considered, "This is one of the reasons," says Mon- 

were very low; and as there was but little taigne, "why Epaminondas refused riches 

money in the colonies, all valuations were which fortune presented to him by very 

graduated to a low standard. In 1638 it lawful means." "In order," said he, "to 

was enacted "that a laborer shall have contend with poverty ; " — in the extreme of 

twelve pence a day and his dyett, or eigh- which he maintained himself to the last. 

teen pence a day without dyett, and not The choice of Epaminondas was one of 

above, throughout the government." This judgment, but the position of the Puritans 

law was repealed in 1639. Edward Gray was that of necessity imposed by Providence. 



128 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



provide for the vo3'nge, and to insure a safe beginning in the wilderness. 
They had no common fund, except in a very limited supplj^ of the actual 
necessaries of life ; and what was wanting in such property with a portion of 
the company was equalized b}^ the skill and capacity of the planter and the 
mechanic. All rights being equal in regard to territory and property, there 
was no obstacle to an agreement that all rights should be equal in respect to 
privilege. The sovereignty of this little body politic was purely democratic, 
based upon the general good. All had a voice in its exercise ; or, in other 
words, each individual exercised a sovereignty within himself, subjected only 
to the control of the majorit3^ The majority principle is simply a rule of 
practicabilit}', securing to a body of men an opportunity of action, numer- 
icall}', according to the theory of entire equality. It is a practical adjust- 
ment of differences, after all have had an equal chance for influence. No 
person is counted more than one ; no person can be counted less. A more 
perfect foundation for a democratic sovereignty cannot be conceived. If 
majorities abuse their right of action by neglecting the public welfare, or by 
transgressing the bounds of constitutional authoritj^, — minorities should 
have a remed}^ in the practical application of the great principles which all 
admit without dissent or division. The sovereignty of the individual, how- 
ever humble, is complete ; and,, in the exercise of the majorit}^ principle, 
the sovereignty of the body politic is preserved.^ A considerate regard was 
extended to the weak in position, b}" equalizing their condition f and the 



1 Let us dwell with M. Guizot for the 
moment, which he asks, and consider his 
attempt to prove a contradiction upon Rous- 
seau. In his fifth lecture on the civiliza- 
tion of France, he says : *' Most of you, of 
course, have read the Contrat Social of 
Rousseau ; the sovereignty of number, of the 
numerical majority, is, as you know, the 
fundamental principle of the work; and 
Rousseau, for a long time, follows out the 
consequence of it with inflexible rigor. A 
time arrives, however, when he abandons 
tliem with great effect. He wishes to give 
his fundamental laws, his constitution, to 
the rising society. His high intellect 
warned him that such a work could not 
proceed from universal suffrage, from the 
numerical majority, from the multitude. 
'A God,' said he, ' must give laws to men.' 
. . . It is not magistracy, — it is not 
sovereignty. . . . It is a particular and 
superior function, which has nothing in 
common with the human empire. And 
liereupon he sets up a sole legislator, a 



sage; thus violating his principle of the 
sovereignty of number, in order to turn to 
an entirely different principle, — to the sov- 
ereignty of intellect, to the right of superior 
reason." Hist. Civ. Vol. i p. 387. 

But, unfortunately, M. Guizot, in his en- 
deavor to prove an inconsistency in the 
philosophy of Rousseau, commits the 
double error of misconstruction and mis- 
apprehension. He gives supremacy to a 
nominal logic, at the expense of actual 
reason. The sovereignty of number is 
a theory hased upon the sovereignty of 
intellect. To view the subject in any other 
light, is an absurdity for which Rousseau is 
not responsible. Guizot does not seem to 
comprehend how the multitude can. ever bo 
raised to the dignity which belongs to in- 
telligence. But this subject will be dis- 
cussed more at length in future chapters. 

2 The conditions upon which the Pilgrims 
contracted with the Merchant Adventurers 
of London, as they were called, for their 
transportation to America, indicate the 



EQUALITY IS BEST COMMENCED IN POVERTY. 



M 



planter was favored in a manner that insured a permanency in the settle- 
ment. The wants of the family were anticipated and provided for in view 
of population and uncertain contingencies ; and what is usually placed at 
the mercy of interest was counted as a matter of serious public concern. 

But, in considering the importance of the principle of equal rights as es- 
tablished by the Puritans, there is another element to be estimated in this 
connection, and that is the principle of integrity. 



exhausted state of their pecuniary means, 
and would probably never have obtained 
their assent, under circumstances not im- 
posed by absolute necessity. We place 
these conditions before the reader, that a 
just estimate may be formed of tlie "hard 
terms " upon which the emigration of our 
fathers depended, which were as follows : 

1. The adventurers and planters do agree 
that every person that goeth, being sixteen 
years old and upward, be rated at ten 
pounds, and that ten pounds be accounted 
a single share. 

2. That he that goeth in person, and 
furnisheth himself out with ten pounds, 
either in money or other provisions, be 
accounted as having twenty pounds in stock, 
and in the division shall receive a double 
share. 

3. The persons transported and the ad- 
venturers shall continue their joint stock 
and partnership the space of seven years, 
except some unexpected impediments do 
cause the whole company to agree other- 
wise; during which time all profits and 
benefits that are gotten by trade, traffic, 
trucking, working, fishing, or any other 
means, of any other person or persons, 
shall remain still in the common stock until 
the division. 

4. That at the coming there they shall 
choose out such a number of fit persons as 
may furnish their ships and boats for fish-- 
ing upon the sea; employing the rest in 
their several faculties upon the land, as 
building houses, tilling and planting the 
ground, and making such commodities as 
shall be most useful for the colony. 

5. That at the end of the seven years, the 
capital and the profits, namely, the houses. 



lands, goods and chattels, be equally di- 
vided among the adventurers. If any debt 
or detriment concerning this adventure* 

6. Whosoever cometh to the colony here- 
after, or putteth anything into the stock, 
shall at the end of the seven years be 
allowed proportionally to the time of his 
so doing. 

7. He that shall carry his wife, or child- 
ren, or servants, shall be allowed for every 
person, now aged sixteen years and upward, 
a single share in the division ; or if he pro- 
vide them necessaries, a double share ; or, 
if they be between ten years old and six- 
teen, then two of them to be reckoned for a 
person, both in transportation and division. 

8. That such children that now go and 
are under the age of ten years have no 
other share in the division than fifty acres 
of unmanured land.. 

9. That such persons as die before the 
seven years be expired, their executors to 
have their parts or share at the division, 
proportionably to the time of their life in 
the colony;^ 

10. That; all such persons, as are of the 
colony are to have meat, dritik and apparel, 
and all provisions, out of the common stock 
and goods of the said; colony. 

These conditions, as we have observed, 
were reluctantly-assented to, on the part of 
those concerned; in the enterprise of emi- 
gration; but.Mr. Cushman, their principal 
agent, as Gov. Bradford observes, "an- 
swered the complaints, that unless they so 
ordered the conditions, the whole design 
would have fallen to the ground; and 
necessity, they- said, having no law, they 
were constrained; to be silent." 



•Some additional article was doubtless intetudodto b« inserted. 



130 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

THE PRINCIPLE OF INTEGRITY. 

Were the Puritans honest ? Was their practice in harmony with their 
professions? In other words, were they sincere? Without this element, 
democrac}' is nothing. Unless all the people are impartially protected, this 
great principle is violated. Without integrit}^, sovereignty can have no 
lasting existence. This is in the nature of things. Honesty has within. 
itself the elements of self-preservation ; dishonesty, the sure elements of 
self-destruction, or deca}'. What government is to a nation, as a protective 
institution, integrity is to government as a sustaining principle. It is the 
great principle of certainty- , — the moral presence of man placed in the sub- 
lime relations of simple truth. 

It will not be expected that any attempt should be made to prove the 
integrity of the Puritans, or to defend their acts. Should such a course be 
deemed necessary in any connection, it is quite certain that it is not em- 
braced within the design of the present work. Besides, whoever has in- 
formed himself of their history with so little profit as to institute such an 
inquir}^, is not likel}^ to be influenced by mere expressions of opinion, when 
facts of an extraordinary nature have failed to produce conviction. 

If viewed in connection with the events of a generation, or a century, 
integrity is a principle that cannot be mistaken. The grandeur of its 
development exists in its moral greatness, in sustaining man with an un- 
deviating certainty in the successive positions of progressive humanity. It 
marks the world of mind, as the planets mark the heavens. It is the basis 
of eternal order. It sheds a light by which it may be seen, and travels 
wide and open paths, which are perpetual. It is the continuitj' and perma- 
nency of moral principle, — the joining the present with the past, and the 
past with the future ; or, in the language of philosophy, it ma}" be denomi- 
nated moral identity. It gave permanency to the will of the Puritans, and 
character to their motives. As an element of sovereignt}^, its importance 
can hardl}^ be over-estimated. A slight deviation from its strict requisi- 
tions, in the beginning, would soon have proved fatal to the success of the 
colonists. In respect to all local questions this principle governed. The 
exercise of its influence, combined with habitual firmness, gave to them 
that peculiar austerity of character for which they became so distinguished. 
They permitted no deviation from their rules of practice, when not sanc- 
tioned by acknowledged tests of integrity. Their business was conducted 
in strict conformity to its requisitions ; their habits were controlled in view 
of their professions, and their fashions were scrutinized with the same exact 
observance of moral harmony. When applied to government and combined 
with firmness, it was the spirit of integrity that enabled them to withstand 
the encroachments of power, so frequently attempted b^^ England. 
The}' were strict constructionists, — even more. They were true not only 
.to the letter of their charters and patents, but to the spirit of their 



POPULAR EDUCATION. 131 

language, the circumstances of their origin, and to the great principles of 
Democracy. 

Admitting, then, what all candid men must be willing to concede, that 
they were democrats in principle, the further inqnirjr remains to be an- 
swered, whether they were true to Democracy in practice. Were their in- 
stitutions of justice, education and religion, calculated to sustain the 
sovereignty ,the elements of which have just been considered? Were their 
laws of a character suited to the period, and of consistent tendencies ? 

It is a common error to speak of the institutions of a country as original 
sources of character. Their influence is not to be denied, nor their im- 
portance undervalued. Let them simply be understood in their obvious 
relations. 

Institutions are shaped according to character already existing. They 
are good or pernicious, efficient or feeble, according to the wisdom with 
which they are projected and sustained. They indicate the true character 
of a people. What motives are to action, character is to institutions. In 
the one we find the cause ; in the other, the corresponding efl'ect. The in- 
stitutions of the colonists were not the sources of their success or strength, 
so much as they were the results of their character, their Democracy. This 
may be said with singular propriety of their schools, and establishments 
for popular education. 



POPULAR EDUCATION. 

In no degree did the colonists relax their exertions in view of sustaining 
the great principles which they had so explicitly declared, and which were 
gaining strength in every advancement of knowledge. The}^ began rapidly 
to discover the great power of knowledge. They evidently noticed progi'ess 
in themselves at an early period, and it was natural that they should note 
the causes of prosperit}^ which arose within the limits of a common experi- 
ence. Not being conscious of ignorance, they could not suddenly be in- 
fluenced by new considerations, even in regard to the importance of educa- 
tion. The age in which they lived^ was thought by some to be a learned 
one. They saw enough, however, to be persuaded that schools for the 



When Glanville -was elected Speaker of sentative body, but the abstracted quin- 

the House of Commons (1640), he referred, tessence of the whole commonality, of this 

in his Speech to the King, to the great your noble realm of England ; tliere be 

learning of that age. He said, *' it is a very many amongst them much fitter for 

learned age wherein we live, under your this place than I am ; few or none, in my 

majesty's most peaceful and flourishing gov- opinion, so unfit as mysel£" — Pari. Deb.., 

ernment : and your House of Commons, as Vol. ii, p. 536. 
it is now composed, is not only the repre- 



132 



IlISTORr OF DEMOCRACY. 



people Tvere as necessaiy for the security of posterity as reproduction, is 
indispensable to the continuance of the race.^ 



1 Livingston, in his introduction to the 
Penal Code of Louisiana, gives credit to the 
early colonists of New England for estab- 
lishing free schools such as had never been 
attempted in modern Europe. 

The first free school in America -was 
founded in 1G21, in Virginia. The early 
proceedings of the colonists in regard to 
education have not been preserved. They 
extended their educational care even to the 
children of the Indians. Governor Crad- 
ock recommended to Mr. Endicott, in 1C28, 
"that he train up some of the Indian child- 
ren to reading and religion." 

In 1G35, free schools were commenced in 
Boston. A college was established in Cam- 
bridge in 1G38 ; that, " so schollars might 
there be educated for the service of Christ 
and his churches in the work of the minis- 
try, and that they might be seasoned in 
their tender years with such principles as 
brought their blessed progenitors into this 
wilderness." It was recommended to the 
several colonies, in 1645, to raise, by 
way of voluntary contribution, one peck of 
corn, or twelve pence money, or other com- 
modity, of every family, "that so the col- 
lege may have some considerable yearly 
healp towards their occasions." The foun- 
dation of the college, and the instruction of 
all the children in the English tongue, the 
capital laws, and the grounds and principles 
of religion, were among the first objects of 
attention in the Massachusetts colony. 
The college was sustained with energy, by 
frequent enactments, as an institution of 
the first importance, in every point of view. 
In 1042 the legislature gave their earnest 
attention to domestic education, and passed 
laws making the duty an imperative one. 
Common schools were established by law in 
Massachusetts in 1G47. Since that time, 
Bot to keep and maintain the schools re- 
quired by law has been an indictable offence. 
The following is an act of 1647: 

"It being one chief project of Satan to 
keep men from the knowledge of the Scrip- 
ture^ as in former times keeping them in 



unknown tongues, so in these latter times 
by persuading from the use of tongues, that 
so at least the true sense and meaning of 
the original miglit be clouded and corrupted 
with false glosses of deceivers ; to the end 
that learning may not be buried in the 
graves of our forefathers, in church and 
commonwealth, the Lord assisting our 
endeavors ; 

" It is therefore ordered by this court and 
the authority thereof, that: every township 
within this jurisdiction, after the Lord hath 
increased them to the number of fifty liouse- 
holders, shall then forthwith appoint one 
within their towns to teach all such children 
as shall resort to him to read and write, 
whose wages shall be paid either by the 
parents or masters of such children, or by 
the inhabitants in general, by way of sup- 
ply, as the major part of those that order 
the prudentials of the town shall appoint^ 
provided that those who send their children 
be not oppresed by paying much more than 
they can have them taught for in other 
towns. 

"And it is further ordered, that where 
any town shall increase to the number of 
one hundred families or householders, they 
shall set up a grammar-school, the master 
thereof being able to instruct youth so far 
as they may be fitted for the university; 
and if any town neglect the performance 
hereof above one year, then every such 
town shall pay five pounds per annum to 
the next such school, till they shall perform 
this order " 

The legislation of the colonies in respect 
to education was continued with consistent 
views and unabated interest to the period of 
the Revolution. The colonists shared the 
spirit of Milton, who said, " I call, there- 
fore, a complete and generous education 
that which fits a man to perform justly, 
skilfully and magnanimously, all the offices, 
both private and public, of peace and 
war-"— See Coll. of N. H. Hist. Soc.,Yoij. 
IV ; FeWs Annals of Salem; Colonial 
Records of Connecticut, 



POPULAR educatio:n. 133 

In education is to be found another and a yerj important condition nec- 
essary to the continuance and completeness of state sovereignty. The 
district school is a democratic institution, and, when considered in its near 
and remote bearings, is a subject of the greatest magnitude. It is to man 
what the orb of day is to the world, — a light that leads, and a power that 
saves. It may be termed the life-guard of thought and sentiment, — that 
principle of Democracy which opens to the soul new avenues to the futui-e, 
and prepares the means for their immediate occupancy. 

The axiom that " knowledge is power " is no new discovery. It is an infi- 
nite truth. For six thousand years, at least, it has been known to the few ; 
and the consciousness of the existence of this magnificent truth has been 
one of the chief reasons why it has been kept from the many. 

It is not well to turn upon the past with an arrogant spirit, to analyze the 
dark ages of man ; as if they had been permitted, and not controlled, by 
Providence ; as if it were possible that Almighty Power could cease for an 
instant in its beneficence, or fail to assert and develop the sublime and 
mighty relations of divine truth. This is not the spirit of philosoph}', of 
patriotism, or of religion. Rather let the pages of the past be read as the 
lessons coming from Infinite Wisdom, illustrating the glories of truth by 
the absence of knowledge, the power of knowledge by the examples of ignov' 
ance, the blessings of knowledge b}^ the practical results of its application. 
In God's own time, the destiny of man will be developed by human agencies, 
which, while they display his goodness, will elevate the soul ; and while 
the}' exalt his power, will add energy to all the faculties. 

The ancients, with extraordinary foresight of the power of knowledge, pro- 
claimed, with oracular solemnitj-, that self-knowledge was of divine origin. 

Truth profound ! 
How great the task ! how infinite the theme ! 

Self-knowledge comprehends a consciousness of the varied powers of 
mind ; their wants as connected with condition, their nature as the agents 
of control, and an acquaintance with external objects, as the aids of human 
progress. 

Without self-knowledge, man remains ignorant of man. Rights would 
exist only in abstract propositions, and dut}' would be a theory subordinate 
to arbitrary power. 

Historians of all nations are too much accustomed to speak of education 
as having been within the reach of the people. They employ language that 
is calculated to mislead the reader, and to perplex the thinker. The}^ fail 
to make a distinction between individual examples of learning and a 
difi'used intelligence among the people ; between the love of knowledge and 
the possession of it. It is true the ancients prized it with as much enthusi- 



134: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

asm as the moderns do ; but what would be counted much in one period, 
would be deemed insignificant in another. What was once called general 
diffusion, embracing only those who could read and write, and were in posi- 
tion, would be characterized in the present day as education for the 
aristocrac3% 

In ancient Eome, in the earlier ages of the commonwealth, it is asserted 
b}" historians^ that the Roman matrons appreciated teaching as an honor. 
The general prosperit}^ and peace of China have been ascribed to educa- 
tional causes. 2 Guizot and others sa^^, that from the first to the eighth 
centuries schools were everywhere numerous in France.^ Charlemagne is 
represented as a most ardent friend to education, — and yet he was unable 
to write his own name. 

Prescott gives a glowing account of " Arabian scholarship, in the tenth 
and succeeding centuries, under a despotic government and a sensual relig- 
ion." * Alfred of England, in the ninth centur}', is said to have enjoined 
by law all freeholders, possessed of two hides of land or more, to send 
their children to school ; and it is added that he had the satisfaction to see 
great changes in the face of affairs, before his death.^ Peter the Great is 
recorded as having established " schools in all the towns and little villages 
of Russia, where the peasants learned to read and write, which the very 
gentry could hardly do before." ^ And it is added by another writer, that 
the Emperor Alexander did much, in his reign, "• to promote the general 
education ; and established several new universities, with large numbers of 
subsidiary schools." '*' 

These writers are not quoted with any disposition to make improper 
exception to their authorities, which seem to warrant such statements, but 
with a purpose to induce a more careful study of the nations referred to, in 
regard to the actual condition of the people. Historians owe it to them- 
selves and to philosophy so to impart knowledge as not to violate the pre- 
rogatives of moral power. As a precocious child properly trained, is not 



1 Tytler, and others. already been made. The ostensible plan 

2 Davis' China, Vol. i, p. 201. was to place Constantine upon the throne, 
s Civilization in Europe, Vol. i, p. 349. which he had voluntarily surrendered in 

4 Eerdinand and Isabella, Vol. i, p. favor of Nicholas, and to insist upon a con- 
285. stitution. When the moment had arrived 

5 Hume, Vol. i, p. 75. for declaring their standard, "to the cry 

6 Eustaphieve's Reflections, &c., p. 73. * Hurrah for Constantine' was added that of 
"^ The intelligence of the troops and the ' Hurrah for the Constitution.' The last 

people of Russia may be inferred from an word bears in lluss a feminine termina- 

anecdote related by Schnitzler. At the tion, — Constiiontzia, — and the ignorant 

time of the great revolt at St. Petersburg, men who heard it coupled with that of 

soon after the accession of Nicholas to Constantine supposed it referred to his 

the throne, a revolution was attempted by wife I The word republic^ had it been pro- 

Ryleieff and others, to wliich allusion has nounced, would not have been better under- 



POPULAR EDUCATION, 135 

expected to be a dull man, so a nation that is earl}' favored -with, extensive 
means of education is not expected to linger in the dark shades of ignor- 
ance as it advances to maturity. The practical teachings of the parable of 
the traveller, who gave a different number of talents to each of his ser- 
vants, are as applicable to true philosophy as to religion.^ 

The power of truth is certain. Knowledge is its great lever. Whatever 
else is clouded by the uncertainties of life, the light of knowledge has its 
conditions of progress, which ma}' be calculated with as much moral accu- 
racy as the elements of physical power. It is onl}- necessary to look with 
scrutiny to the present state of England, France, Germany, Spain, Russia 
and China, to be persuaded that at no time whatever have the common 
people of those nations been blessed with a common-school education. The}' 
all have much to accomplish before arriving at such a position. The power 
of knowledge is still monopolized, and the people, though blessed with 
occasional glimpses of privileges which belong to them, are kept down by 
the machinery of governments, suited only to control an ignorant 
population. 

As the stream is dependent upon its source, so all events, of whatever 
name or nature, are made subservient to truth. It has been eloquently said 
that " Diffused knowledge immortalizes itself." ^ Its presence prepares for 
its continuance. Its advancement discovers new agents, new labors, new 
duties. Its actual possession elevates all that has dignified man in the past, 
and gives birth to new conceptions and new motives, in view of the future. 
The education of Prussia, which opens the portals of truth to the subject, 
as a showman exhibits for pay, — that affords to the man a nominal pos- 
session of knowledge, without a title to the dignity which belongs to its 
uses, — is like giving light to the eyes of the blind, while manacles still 
fetter the limbs of the body.^ Yet, thanks to the monarch w^ho acts with 
confidence, according to the light which surrounds him.-^ He is preparing 
a crown for his royal descendants, which will outrival the brightness of the 



stood. And the more reasonable cry which Elizabeth, and said, " For as in the heavens 

escapes in smothered sighs from many a a star is but ' opacum corpus,' until it liath 

Eussian heart, ' Triumph to the cause of received light from the sun, so stand I 

law and justice, and down with absolutism ! ' 'corpus opacum,' a mute body, until your 

would not, if uttered to that audience, have highness' bright shining wisdom hath looked 

been more intelligible." — Secret History of upon me, and allowed me." — Pari. Deh.^ 

Russia, Vol. i, p. 240. Vol. i, p. 860. 

1 Matthew 25 : 14, 15. ^ An intelligent writer says : "It was the 

2 Sir James Mackintosh. successful assertion, by Martin Luther, of 

3 The position of the Prussian subject, in the right of individual conscience, the 
relation to his sovereign, is much like that great principle of religious liberty, which 
which Solicitor Coke acknowledged to be led to the establishment of the parochial 
his, when, as Speaker of the House schools in Germany, the germs of the 
(1592-3), he addressed her majesty Queen present school system of Prussia." 



1^ HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

diamond, — the glorious wreath of freedom,— and which no power on earth 
can place upon the head but the hand of Democracy. 

If it were a safe proposition for the Lord-Bishop of Durham, in 1603, 
that " correction without instruction is but a tyrannj^," it requires but little 
proplictic boldness to predict that with instruction tyranny must ultimately 
cease ;^ and, it ma}' be added, crime essentially diminished.^ 

Tyranny, which appears in the name of principle, has but a temporary 
mission, a transitory control. Its palaces become its sepulchres, its retreats 
of safety become its own dungeons of confinement. While it subserves a 
collateral end, it is inherently' self-destructive. 

All men, whether t^-rants or patriots, love the power of knowledge. All 
bow to the magic spell of genius, to the sovereignty of mind. B}' all they 
are reverenced, but with opposite motives. By the t3Tant, that he may 
increase his secmity, in being able to command the resources of those whom 
most he dreads ; by the patriot, that he may extend to all that freedom 
which most he loves and craves. The man of ambition prizes no titles above 
the honors of a universit}- ; the people esteem no greatness above that 
which is to be seen in the defender of their rights, by his masterly exhibi- 
tions of knowledge. The miser, who habituall}- pinches the flesh with 
everj^ exertion to sustain its vitality without the expenditure of his mone}*, 
indulges in his first act of extravagance when he buj's a roll of parchment 
upon which to record a will that conve3's a title of all his savings to those 
institutions established to honor mind, and to multiply the means of knowl- 
edge. Such are the instincts of humanity in regard to those great prin- 
ciples of progress which are developed by education, and with which 
alliances b}' every class of mind are sought, to secure a fame that alone 
can be immortal. 

The humble Peter Wentworth, when he claimed the right to exert his 
powers of knowledge in the House of Commons, in 1575, became the terror 
of her majesty, and of her majesty's councillors. God help to keep in eter- 



1 Pari. Deh., Vol. i, p. 985. other state. In view of such facts, the 

2 Of the nine thousand nine hundred and warden of the Ohio penitentiary, in a 
seventy-nine committed to the jails and special report on prison discipline, made in 
houses of correction in Massachusetts, in 1851, said: "When it is considered that a 
1850, only three thousand one hundred and very fruitful cause of crime is early orphan- 
seventy-five, or less than one-third, could age, poverty and ignorance, the importance 
read and write, — and that, too, while only of penitentiary school-masters will be ren- 
one in a hundred of the people could not dered at once apparent." European statis- 
read and write ; making about ten thousand tics illustrate the same great truth, that 
per cent, in favor of education. Similar crime can be lessened only by means of in- 
calculations in respect to the convicts of the tellectual and moral culture. — See " Western 
different states show similar results, though Journal " August, 1852, in which an article 
the percentage in favor of education is may be found on this subject, written by M. 
much greater in Massachusetts than in any Tarver, Esq., the senior editor. 



PaPULAR EDUCATION. 137 

nal remembrance this ancient and faithful democrat.^ How little has 
]}een done in the Old World, for the past three hundred years, to secure the 
freedom of speech claimed by this honest commoner, is sadly illustrated by 
the despots of France and Austria, who still multiply their soldiers, invest 
weak men and cowards with authorit}", muzzle the press, and banish their 
statesmen and philosophers. They tremble more in the active presence of 
a few of their gifted sons, than if they were threatened by all the armies of 
the world combined. In the one case, hope gives them many chances of 
success ; in the other, none. It is easy to be seen, however, that in all the 
changes of tyranny darkness slowly recedes before the light of truth, and 
the people begin to see where they stand, what they are, what they are to 
do, and to grasp the power which is revealed by knowledge. 

But knowledge and wisdom, without integrity and justice, are only partial 
agents of reform. It was a sublime truth of Solomon, that "the fear of the 
Lord is the beginning of knowledge."^ This was the prevailing sentiment 
of the Puritans, when the}^ evinced a greater confidence in their principles 
than in the strength of an army, and saw in their schools more enduring 
security for the defence of their rights than in the erection of walls and 
fortifications.^ In no respect, and in no condition, is the time misspent 
which is given to the contemplation of their modest yet profoundly wise 
beginning, in regard to the great subject of education. 

But, as state sovereignty is sustained by the means of education, so far as 
g, knowledge of principles and moral power is concerned, it is 3 et further 
dependent upon its agency in opening and enlarging the sources of national 
wealth, and stimulating the incentives to national enterprise. As knowledge 
is a nation's power, so industr}^ is a nation's wealth. What education is to 
knowledge, knowledge is to industry. The one prepares the power, the 
other uses it. 

The diversified products of the earth, their varied secondarj^ combinations 
by the hand of art, their applications in the business of life, and fitness to 
meet the growing wants of society and of nations, are perpetual sources of 
great questions, which impose upon man the most sacred obligations to 
acquire practical habits of stud}'. His position is one of vast responsibilit}^ 
The lessons have been placed before him by an Almighty hand, and the 
treasures which each reveals can be possessed only by means of education. 

The farmer is the tender of Nature's great machinery of production. His 
duties are not limited by his interests, his labors are not confined to his own 
wants. He belongs to a state which has its peculiarities of soil, climate 
and of production. He belongs to a Union made up of independent states, 

1 See page 102. must keep it ; namely, men of wisdom and 

2 Proverbs 1 : 7. virtue, — qualities that because they descend 

3 It was a true remark of William Penn, not with worldly inheritance, must be care- 
«* That which makes a good constitution fully propagated by a virtuous education." 



138 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

each hfiYing its own distinguishing abilit}^, and each its own class of wants. 
He belongs to a world filled with men of different capacities, interests and 
passions, and fitted for labor as various as the tastes and necessities of man 
are numerous. To each and all of these he owes a duty, from the perform- 
ance of which each and all derive a benefit. How noble is the stewardship, 
— how imperative the necessity of knowledge ! 

The mechanic and the manufacturer has each his circle of labor and skill. 
As the farmer should understand the philosophy" of nature in the process of 
her productions, so should the mechanic and the manufacturer under- 
stand the philosophy of the productions of art. These are illimitable. 
Their origin may be traced either to the necessities of man, or to a knowl- 
edge of his wants and peculiar tastes. The arts and sciences are to be 
practically mastered ; the elements are to be made his humble servants in 
relieving labor ; the conditions of men are to be studied ; the fashions are 
to be noted as they change, and the war of competition, that life-energy of 
enterprise, is to be waged with prudence, and yet with unremitting activity. 

Hand in hand then come the merchant and the navigator. They are the 
great agents to supply the wants of the world. Every country is to be 
studied ; every people is to be visited, consulted, understood and supplied. 
They gather for distribution, carrying to distant lands the products of their 
own country, and returning laden with the fruits and commodities of other 
zones, with fabrics made with other hands. History becomes a business 
topic, geography a directory, and man is found to be a subject of study, as 
an important element in successful enterprise. Commerce has been reduced 
to S3' stem, and is justl}' considered a national power. 

In view of all these operations, of the unnumbered and changing copart- 
nerships between mind and matter, between the elements and machinery, 
between the wants of one people and the wants of another, between the 
necessities and the luxuries of life, between the duties and the profits of 
business, another class of men, and by no means the least important, 
apply themselves to the stud}- of forces, the philosophy of motion, of natural 
agents, the true econom}^ of the mechanic powers. Inventive genius has 
been the helper of all nations, in all ages ; but in no period has it accom- 
plished so much as within that of the brief existence of American independ- 
ence. In no country are its applications so various, so practically^ useful, 
as in the United States of America. 

The farmer plants, reaps and gathers, by machiner}-. The mechanic 
saws, planes, carves, bores and drills, by machiner3\ And by machinery 
the manufacturer produces all those refinements of taste which give variet}^ 
and elegance to the textures of cotton, wool and silk, and beautiful forms 
to the woods and metals. By the aid of the magnetic telegraph,^ steam, and 

1 "What shall be said of the magnetic tele- appreciation of the art of printing? "Gut- 
grajjh, if Lamartine be admired for his temberg," says he, "without knowing it, 



POPULAR EDUCATION. 139 

the power-press, editors can gather news of the day from the extremes of 
the American continent and from foreign countries be3'ond the sea before they 
dine, and before they sleep scatter their reeking sheets to millions of their 
expectant readers. Merchants exercise an omniscient supervision of the 
great markets of the nation, and the sm-plus commodities of the day are 
taken to a distant state by the all-receiving cars, or carried by the steam- 
ships of the ocean to other continents, to other lands. 

Mind is practically omnipresent. The boundaries of discover}- no man 
will presume to limit ; the possible achievements of art and science no mind 
is so reckless as to attempt to predict. 

That " fact is stranger than fiction," is a saying now confirmed b}- ordi- 
nar}^ experience. Indeed, language has become quite inadequate to the 
description of realities, and all people press, from the confines of the civil- 
ized world, to the mighty gatherings of a world's fair, to witness the won- 
ders of invention, and to enlighten the darkness of an honest incredulity. 

This is but a slight outline sketch of the world in its present state of 
activity. Men, states and nations, have alike become competitors in the 
great objects of industrial enterprise. Self-protection is seen to lie in self- 
knowledge. Self-knowledge is found to embrace man placed in relation to 
the external world, and in the responsible positions of subject and agent, as 
connected with a transitor}^ and an eternal destiny. The elements of his 
nature have been considered in respect to the ends of government and of 
existence ; the means of advancement have been studied in view of arriving 
at those conditions of safety which arise from knowledge, and of avoidino* 
those conditions of danger, suffering and degradation, which result from 
ignorance and moral indifference. 

In ascribing honor to the Puritans for their comprehensive views of the 
great importance of education, no more than simple justice is done to their 
principles of Democracy. Though they expected but little, the}- prepared 
for much ; though their modesty was surpassed only by the earnestness of 
their piety, the aspirations of their highest ambition have been exceeded, 
and splendidly illustrated, in the events which followed them. What their 
descendants have accomplished and realized, has already become the theme 
of inquiry and amazement throughout the world. If by them education was 
looked upon as an important element to security, it cannot be viewed by the 
present generation otherwise than as a necessity. It has ever been, in all 
ages, a leading feature of Democracy, without which but little could be 



was the mechanist of the New World. In of kings and the thunders of pontiffs. It 

creating the communication of ideas, he had was mind which he furnished with language, 

assured the independence of reason. Every These two powers were the mistresses of 

letter of his alphabet which left his fingers man, as they were hereafter of mankind." — 

contained in it more power than the armies Ilist. of the Girondists, Vol. i, p. 21. 



MO HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

accomplished, either for freedom or for happiness. The cause of educa- 
tion and Democracy should, in all countries, be considered identical ; not 
for the few, but for the many ; not for the rich alone, but for the poor ; 
the best that can be commanded, and for all. Let the district school, the 
high school and the college, rise up everywhere throughout the broad domain 
of the American continent, as living monuments sacred to the memory of 
the Puritans who founded them, and as great instruments to preserve the 
liberty of their descendants. 

Education ma}^ be regarded literally as the night-watch of freedom, the 
guardian angel of Democrac3\ It gradually discovers to the state the great 
sources of its power, the dangers of ignorance, the impenetrable safeguards 
of its sovereignty. It imparts a necessar}^ knowledge of conditions without 
the observance of which no people can permanently thrive, or intelligently 
prosper. It enables the citizen clearl}^ to understand the declarations of a 
constitution upon which rests the great American Union, and to take 
that comprehensive survey of men and things which recognizes a sovereignty 
in every state, and in all the states a nation, that, in its functions of power 
and grandeur, knows " no north, no south, no east, no west," and sees 
nothing in its objects "but a sacred maintenance of the common bond, 

AND true devotion TO THE COMMON BROTHERHOOD." ^ 



THE LEGISLATION OF THE PUEITANS. 

The Legislation of the Puritans was of a nature to command implicit 
obedience. It simply consisted in the application of Bible authority to the 
A^arying conditions of the colonies. To them the Bible was government. 
They raised no questions, and permitted no liberties of construction. It 
was not their government, but the government of God. It was not a gov- 
ernment for discussion, but one of blessed privileges and obedience ; and as 
such was to be defended against the inroads of impious men in the colonies, 
and against dangerous heretic^ from abroad. The church was deemed the 
sacred depository of the safeguards of liberty, and was guarded with a 
watchfulness that knew no rest, and with a spirit that entertained no com- 
promise. Theocratic rule is one of sentiment. It is based upon wisdom 
alread}^ acknowledged. It admits of no discussion. This is its nature. 
The wisdom of the Bible was viewed b}' the Puritans as a revelation from 
God, and as sufficient for humanity in all its wants and changes. This 
wisdom declared the principles of Democracy', and it was seized upon with 
inexpressible delight, as in harmou}^ with all the higher sj-mpathies of our 
common nature. What truth could be more glorious than that of equal 
rights ? What happiness more complete than religious freedom ? What 

1 Franklin Pierce. 



LEGISLATION OF THE PUKITANS. 



141 



protection more sure than a democratic sovereignty? What end more 
noble than the universalit}^ of privilege ? Beyond this their imagination 
could not go. More than this their hopes had never promised, nor could 
their conceptions realize. They considered the Democracy of the Bible as 
self-protective, and that all its laws were adjusted to its principles. 

Still, with these views as they supposed unalterably fixed, they did not 
hesitate to give form to scriptural authority, as connected with their wants 
and growing interests. Their first compact was a legislative act. In 1623, 
ti'ial by jur}' was ordained hy the court.^ Their mechanics were forbidden 
to work for strangers. 2 In 1627, lands were equally divided b}' an act of 
the court.^ And, prior to 1636, a few other laws were made ; but they were 
not of a character to illustrate an}' new principle, nor to show anj^ depart- 
ure from principles already acknowledged. 

There was one law, however, enacted in 1632,^ which is worthy of remark, 
as tending to prove that the Puritans were not much influenced b}' love of dis- 
tinction. It was made a penal offence to decline office. To decline office 
was not a new fact in history ; but the fact, whenever found, is an instruc- 
tive one. The element of ambition in the administration of government, 
whether present or absent, is always to be noted. Actuated b}' motives of 
ambition, man becomes an uncertain agent. With considerations in view 



1 "It was ordained 17 day of December 
An" 1623, by the court then held, that all 
criminal facts, and all matters of trespasses 
and debts between man and man, should be 
tried by the verdict of twelve honest men, 
to be empanelled by authority in forme of a 
jury, upon their oath." This was re-enacted 
in 1636 and 1658. 

^ " It was further decreed, the day and 
year above written (29th March, 1626), for 
the preventing of such abuses as do and 
may arise amongst us, that no handy-crafts- 
men of what profession soever, as taylors, 
shoemakers, carpenters, joyners, smiths, 
sawyers, or wliatsoever, w*** do or may re- 
side or belong to this plantation of Plimouth, 
shall use their science or trades at home or 
abroade, for any strangers or foreigners, till 
such time as the necessity of the colony be 
served, without the consent of the Gover- 
no"^ and Councill ; the breach thereof to be 
punished at their discretion." 

3 See Laws of the Colony of New Ply- 
mouth, edited by Brigham, p. 29. 

4 " It was enacted by public consent of 



the freemen of this society of New Ply- 
mouth, that if now (January, 1632) or 
hereafter any were elected to the oflBce of 
governor, and would not stand to the elec- 
tion, nor hold and execute the office for his 
year, that then he may be amerced in 
twenty pounds sterling fine; and in case 
refused to be paid upon the lawful demand 
of the ensuing govenor, then to be levied 
out of the goods or the chattels of the said 
person so refusing. 

"It Avas further ordered and decreed, 
that if any were elected to tlie office of 
councell and refused to hold the place, that 
then he be amerced in ten pounds sterling 
fine ; and in case refused to be paid, to be 
forthwith levied. 

"It was further decreed and enacted, 
that in case one and the same person should 
be elected gov' a second year, having held 
the place the foregoing year, it should be 
lawful for liim to refuse, without any 
amercement ; and the company to proceed 
to a new election, except they can prevaill 
with him by entreaty." — Brigham' s Fiji* 
mouth Laws, p. 30. 



142 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

of personal aggrandizement, it cannot be supposed that he is capable of 
being just to the rights and interests of others. Generall}^ deficient in self- 
knowledge, his ignorance of others ma^^ be conjectured without danger of 
doing injustice. Human ambition, as generalh^ understood, is unfavorable 
to integi'it}'. What is not favorable to integrity is unfavorable to 
independence. 

It is quite true that many reasons may be assigned for declining office. 
It is to be admitted that all men, more or less, are ambitious, — some in one 
pursuit, some in another. That the colonists ma}- have had the ambition 
to become the possessors of wealth, and that all offices were looked upon by 
them as taxes upon persons, and not designed as distinctions of honor.. But 
such a construction of motive is not warranted by the facts of history. 

In times of feudalism, indifference to office may be accounted for b}" the 
jealousy existing between the nobles and the king. The power of the one is 
proposed to be increased by lessening the power of the other. In a badl}"- 
regulated monarch}^, office ma}^ not be desired by a subject who is adverse 
to the government of the king.. The honor is more than balanced by a 
required sacrifice of principle. Where government is absolute, and the sov-. 
ereignty of the nation is controlled by a single mind, men of high charac- 
ter and proper self-respect may not be pleased with distinctions which are 
merel}' nominal, nor with positions that are of a doubtful dignit3^ In such 
examples, office may well excite aversion and disgust. With a Democracy 
the case is far different. There is an individual and state sovereignty to be 
protected. All have an equal interest ; and, had the usual motives of am- 
bition prevailed with the Puritans, their laws w^ould soon have become 
unequal, foreign control would have increased, and the sovereignty declared 
by the compact would have been broken by struggles for place. The 
absence of this troublesome element, in the early formation of democratic 
institutions, is conclusive evidence of incorruptible integrity. 

In 1636 the colonists began to have distinct conceptions of human legis- 
lation. The}^ recited the compact of 1620, and reviewed their position in 
reference to England.^ They declared their reasons for legislation, and 



1 Whereas at his Ma*'" court held the 4th Anthony Annable for Scituate should be 

and 5th of Octob' in the 12"^ yeare of the added to the Gov' and assistants as commit- 

raigne of our soveraign Lord Charles by tees for the whole body of this common- 

the grace of God King of Engl. Scotl. Fr. weale, should meet together the 15th of 

and Irel. defender of the Faith, &c., it was Nov''' at Plymouth above menconed, and 

ordered that Mr. William Brewster, Mr. there to peruse all the laws, orders and 

Ealph Smith, Mr. John Done and John constitucons of the plantacons within this 

Jenny for the town of Plymouth ; Jonathan government that so those that are still 

Brewster and Christopher "Wadsworth for fitting might be established ; those that time 

Duxburrough and James Cudworth and hath made unnecessary might be rejected; 



LEGISLATION OF THE PURITANS. 



143 



cited their authority for enacting laws. Thej^ began to systematize their 
colonial government, to define private rights, public duties, and to provide 
penal securities. Propert}^ and trade became the subjects of regulation, 
alliances of offence and defence were made with the Indians,^ a militia was 
established, and peace and war were provided for b}^ statute. Towns were 
invested with authority to make laws, and grand juries were organized as 
the moral supervisors of the people. Benevolence extended to the poor 
the overflowing hand of charity, and misfortune found protection on 
the statute-book of the Puritans. Justice was administered with as much 
impartiality to the Indian as to the colonists, and equity was a principle as 
clearly registered in their laws as it was beautifully illustrated in their 
uniform execution. 

S3^mpathy for the Indian has been a constant theme for the poet, the leg- 
islator, and divine. His claims to the soil of the continent, the sacredness 
of his home in the forest, his struggles for ascendency, and the rapid decline 
of his race, have justly excited the spirit of the benevolent writer ; and good 
men of every land have looked with melancholy interest upon the hand of 
fate, which has seemed to guide him to a premature grave and to a mj'ste- 



and others that -were wanting might be 
prepared, that so the next court they might 
be established. 

Now being assembled according to the 
said order and having read the combinacon 
made at Cape Cod the 11th of Nov^^ 1G20 
in the yeare of the raigne of our late Sov. 
L. King James of Engl. Fr. and Irel. the 
eighteenth and of Scotland the fifty-fourth 
as also our letters patents confirmed by the 
honourable councell, his said Ma*'« estab- 
lished and granted the 13 of January 1629 
in the fifte year of the raigne of our Sov. 
Lord King Charles and finding that as free 
borne subjects of the state of Engl, we 
hither came endewed w'^'^ all and singular 
the priviledges belong to such in the first 
place, we tliinke good that it be established 
for an act. 

That according to the and due priv- 

iledge of the subject aforesaid no imposicon 
law or ordnance be made or imposed upon or 
by ourselves or others at present or to come 
but such as shall be made or imposed by con- 
sent according to the free liberties of the 
state and kingdome of Engl, and no other- 
wise, &c. Dated at New Plymouth, Nov. 
15, 1636. 



1 The following treaty was made with 
Massasoit, March, 1621 : 

I. That neither he nor any of his should 
injure or do hurt to any of their people. 

II. That if any of his did hurt to any of 
theirs, he should send the offender that they 
might punish him. 

III. That if anything were taken away 
from any of theirs, he should cause it to be 
restored; and they should do the like to 
his. 

IV. That if any did unjustly war 
against him they would aid him; and if 
any did war against them, he should aid 
them. 

V. That he should send to liis neighbor 
confederates, to inform them of this, that 
they might not wrong them, but might be 
likewise comprised in these conditions of 
peace. 

VI. That when his men came to them 
upon any occasion, they should leave tlieir 
arms (which were their bows and arrows) 
behind them. 

VII. Lastly : That so doing, their sov- 
ereign lord. King James, would esteem him 
as his friend and ally. — IIoHon's Memorial^ 
p. 54, Davis' edition. 



144: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

rions oblivion. But while the sentiment of benevolence is to be honored, 
the higher reason must not be disregarded. 

The natural world is filled with causes which man is fitted to develop and 
to know. The secret springs of vegetation ; the healthful condition of 
vegetable life ; the uses of things that grow and of inanimate substances ; 
the objects of beauty and enjoyments of sense ; the numberless purposes of 
animal life ; the laws of matter and the elements of mechanical power ; — in 
fine^ whatever exists upon, within, around, above and beyond the globe, and 
the globe itself, — are subjects enjoined upon man for him to master, to con- 
trol without abuse, and to advance in the great scale of perfection. 

With view^s such as these, who can believe that the red man was the true 
inheriter of the American continent ? — that such a magnificent country, . 
with its vast capabilities, should be destined to the mere objects of animal 
life ? — that it was to be the destiny of the savage to grovel forever with the 
beasts ; to study destruction instead of life and growth ; to roam over the 
land without a knowledge of its beauties, or of its latent treasures ? Was this 
earth clothed in matchless beauty and endowed with rich treasures, adapted 
to humanit}^, forever to revolve in its orbit without development? Was it 
created without design, without destin}'? To argue such questions, would 
be subjecting Providence to the trial of reason, judgment to the rule of 
doubt, and it would impl}" a total want of that awe and reverence which 
should ever characterize the spirit of inquire', when the works of Infinite 
Wisdom are the subject of contemplation. The Indian was the steward of 
one talent. He buried it, and made no interest. " From him that hath 
not, shall be taken away even that which he hath." The white man 
is endowed with more talents, and they involve corresponding respon- 
sibilities.^ 

Principle has its alliances with every form of wisdom ; wisdom has its 
aids in every source of knowledge. Convictions of truth constitute knowl- 
edge ; knowledge constitutes power. Men act from what they believe, and 
from what they know ; and the certainty of action is coeval with the 
certainty of knowledge. 



1 It is an error to suppose that the colo- sessed and improved, by subduing the same, 
nists were unmindful of the interest of the they have a just right to ; and, for the fur- 
Indian. Such an idea has prevailed to ther encouragement of the hopeful work 
some extent, but is not sustained by the amongst them for the civilizing and helping 
facts of history. them forward to Christianity, if any of the 

In 1633 the Legislature of Massachusetts Indians shall be brought to civility, and 

passed an act for settling the Indians' title come among the English to inhabit in any 

to lands in this jurisdiction. It prohibited of their plantations, and shall live civilly 

the purchase of lands from the Indians, and orderly, that such Indians shall have 

without license from the General Court. It allotments among the English, according to 

declared and ordered, that what lands any the customs of the English in the like case, 

of the Indians in this jurisdiction have pos- It further ordered, that if, upon good ex- 



LEGISLATION OF THE PURITANS. 



1^5 



These propositions were as true two hundred years ago as they are to day. 
The Pui'itans of the seventeenth century- were as wise, according to their 
knowledge, as the Americans are in the nineteenth; and their early legisla^ 
tion bears the marks of rapid progress. 

In 1658, they reached another period for revising their laws. Their orig- 
inal motives are still recited, but they show them enlarged. The principle 
of Democrac}' is set forth with increased confidence. They appear to be con- 
scious of having arrived at a position which reall}^ had not been anticipated, 
and the}^ deemed an explanatory address important to the occasion. This 
document is well worth}^ of repeated perusal.^ 

The next revision of laws took place in 1671. Here again Democracy is 



perience, there shall be a competent num- 
ber of Indians brought on to civility, so as 
to be capable of a township, upon their re- 
quest, they shall have grants of lands un- 
disposed of, for a plantation, as the English 
have ; and still further ordered, that if any 
plantation or person of the English shall 
offer injuriously to put any of the Indians 
from their hunting-grounds or fishing- 
places, upon their complaint and proof, they 
shall have relief in any of the courts 
amongst the English, as the English have. — 
Holmes' Annals, Vol. i. p. 217. 

The upright and respected Gov. Winslow, 
in a letter dated at Marshfield, May 1, 1676, 
observes : " I tliink I can clearly say. that 
before these present troubles broke out, the 
English did not possess one foot of land in 
this colony, but what was fairly obtained by 
honest purchase of the Indian proprietors. 
"VVe first made a law that none should pur- 
chase or receive of gift any land of the 
Indians, without the knowledge and allow- 
ance of our court ; and lest yet they should 
be streightened, we ordered that Mount 
Hope, Pocasset, and several other necks of 
the best land in the colony, because most 
suitable and convenient for them, should 
never be bought out of their hands." — See 
Jlubhard's Narrative, and Hazard, col. 
II., 531 — 534. 

John Adams was asked concerning the 
treatment of the Indians in New England, 
and he replied that he believed it to have 
been just. " In all my practice at the bar," 
said he, " I never knew a contested title to 
lands but what was traced up to tlie Indian; 
10 



title." — Holmes' Annals, Vol. ii, p. 151. 
1 The document was in the shape of an 
Address : To ouk Beloved Brethren 
AND Neighbours the Inhabitants of the 
Jurisdiction of New-Plymouth ; The Gov- 
ernor, Assistants, and Deputies Assembled 
held att the General Court of that Jurisdic- 
tion, held att the Towne of Plymouth, the 
29th of September 1658, wisheth Grace and 
peace in our Lord Jesus Christ. 

It was the great priviledge of Israeli of 
old, and soe was acknowledged by them, 
Nehemiah the 9th and 13. That God gave 
them right judgements and true Lawes ; for 
God being the God of Order, and not of 
Confusion hath comaunded in Ms word, 
and put man into a capacitie in some meas- 
ure to observe and bee guided by good and 
wholsome Lawes ; which are soe fare good 
and wholsome, as by how much they are 
derived from and agreeable to the ancient 
Platforme of Gods Lawe ; for although sun- 
dry particulares in the Judiciall law'' which 
was of old enjoyed to the Jews, did more 
espetially (att least in some Circumstances) 
befitt theire Padagogye, yet are they for the 
mayne soe exemplary, being grounded on 
Principles of Morall Equitie, as that all 
men Christians espetially, ought alwaies to 
have an eye therunto, in the framing of 
theire Politique Constitutions ; And al- 
though several of the Heathen Nations whoe 
were ignorant of the time God and of. his 
Lawe, have bine famous in theire times,, fi^r 
the Enacting and Execution of such Lawse 
as have proved; profttable for the Govern- 
ment of tbeire Comon-wealthes in the times- 



146 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



reiisficrtcd Avitli a formalit}- belonging to the proper dignitj' of principles, 
under the imposing title of " The General Fundamentals."^ 

The peculiar feature of this document, as compared to the previous ones, 



wherein they lived ; Notwithstanding theire 
excehency appeered soe fare as they were 
founded upon grounds of IMorall Equitie, 
which hath its Originall from the Law of 
God. And accordingly wee whoe have bine 
xVctors in the framing of this smale body of 
the Lawes, together with other useful Ins- 
truments whoe are gone to theire rest, can 
safely say both for our selves and them, 
that wee have had an eye primarily- and 
principally unto the aforesaid Platforme ; 
and 2'"""^aryly, unto the right improvement 
of the liberties granted unto us, by our 
Superiors the State of England att the first 
beginning of this infant Plantation ; which 
was to Enact such Lawes as should most 
befitt a State in the Non-age thereof ; not 
rejecting or omitting to observe such of the 
Lawes of our Native Countrey, as would 
conduce unto the good and growth of so 
weake a begining as ours in this wilderness, 
as any impartiall eye not fore-staled with 
prejudice, may ezely discern in the perure- 
sall of this smale Book of the lawes of our 
Collonie : the premises duely considered, 
might work every consienciouse sperit to 
faithfull Obedience : And although wee hold 
and doe afeirme that both Courts of Justice 
and Magistrates, whoe are the minnesters of 
the Lawe are essentially Civill; notwith- 
standing wee conceive, that as the Magis- 
trate hath his power from God, soe undoubt- 
edly hee is to improve it for the honer of 
God, and that in the uphoalding of his 
worship and service, and against the con- 
trary, with due respect also to bee had 
:unto those that are really consienyous, 
•though differing and decenting in som 
smaller matters : But if any really or in 
■pretence of conscience shall professe that 
-which eminently tendeth to the Inundation 
of Civell State, and violation of naturall 
Bonds, or the overthrow of the Churches of 
>God or of his Worship, that hcer prudence 
is to bee improved in the Enacting and 
Execution of lawes. 

It hath bine our Indeaver in the framing 



of our lawes, that nothing should bee found 
amongst them, but what will fall under the 
same particulares, wee have likewise re- 
duced them to such order, as they may most 
conduce to our utilitie, and profit; possi- 
bly it may bee that weakness may appeer in 
the composure of sundry of them for want 
of such plenty of able Instruments as 
others are furnished withall : However 
lett this suffice the gentle Header that our 
ends are, to the utmost of our power in 
these our Indeavours, to promote the comon 
good both of church and State, both att 
pesent and for future ; and therefore so fare 
as we have aimed att the Glory of God; 
and common good, and acted accord- 
ing to God; Bee not found a Resister but 
Obedient, lest thereby thou resist the Ordi- 
nance of God, and soe incurr the displeas- 
ure of God unto Damnation. Rom. 13. 2. 
By order of the General Court. 

NATHANIAL MORTON Clarke. 

1 The General Eundamentals. I. 

Wee the Associates of New-Plimouth, 
comeing hither as Ereeborn Subjects of the 
State of England, endowed with all and 
singular ; the Priviledges belonging to such 
being Assembled; Do enact. Ordain and 
Constitute ; That no Act, Imposition, Law 
or Ordinance, be made or imposed upon us, 
at present or to come ; but such as 
shall be made or imposed by consent 
of the Body of Ereemen or Associates, 
or their Representatives legally assembled : 
which is according to the free Liberties of 
the State of England. 

II. And for the well-governing this Cor- 
poration ; It is also Resolved and Ordered, 
That there be a Eree Election Annually, of 
Governour, and Assistants by the Vote of 
the Ereemen of this Corporation ; and that 
none shall presume to impose themselves or 
any other upon us, but such as are so chose, 
according to the priviledge granted us by 
Charter. 



THE GENERAL rUNIXAMENTALS. 



ur 



is that in addition to the recital of principles, illustrations are given of their 
proper application. In 1685 another revision was found necessary, and 
some further principles, considered SiS fundamental , were declared. 



III. That Justice and Eight he equally 
and impartially Administred unto all, not 
sold, denied or causelessly deferred unto 
any. 

IV. It is also Enacted, that no person 
in this Government shall be endamaged in 
respect of Life, Limb, Liberty, Good name 
or Estate, under colour of Law, or counten- 
ance of Authority, but by virtue or equity 
of some express Law of the General Court 
of this Colony, the known Law of God, or 
the good and equitable Laws of our Nation 
suitable for us, being brought to answer by 
due process thereof. 

V. That all Trials, whether Capital, 
Criminal, or between Man and Man, be 
tried by Jury of twelve good and lawful 
Men, according to the commendable cus- 
tome of England ; except the party or par- 
ties concerned, do refer it to the Bench, or 
some express Law doth refer it to their 
Judgment and Tryal of other Court where 
Jury is not ; in which case the party agrieved 
may appeal, and shall have Tryal by a 
Jury. 

And it shall be in the liberty of both 
Plaintiffe andDefendent or any Delinquent, 
that is to be tryed by a Jury, to chalenge 
any of the Jurors, and if the chalenge be 
found just and reasonable by the Bench, it 
shall be allowed him, and others without 
just exception shall be impannelled in their 
i^oom : And if it be in case of Life and 
Death, the Prisoner shall have liberty to 
except against six or eight of the Jury, with- 
out giving any reason for his exception. 

VI. That no man be sentenced to Death 
without Testimonies of two witnesses at 
least, or that which is equivalent thereunto, 
and that two or three Witnesses being of 
competant age. Understanding and of good 
Reputation, Testifjang to the case in ques- 
tion, shall be accounted and accepted as full 
Testimony in any case, though they did not 
together see or hear, and so Witness to the 
same individual Act, in reference to circum- 
stances of time and place ; Provided the 



Bench and Jury be satisfied with such 
Testimony. 

VII. And it is provided, as the supposed 
Priviledge of our Charter, that all persons 
of the age of twenty one years, of right 
Understanding and Memory, whether Ex- 
communicated, Condemned or other, having 
any Estate properly theirs to dispose, shall 
have full power and liberty to make their 
reasonable Wills and Testaments, and other 
lawful Alienations of their Lands and Es- 
tates ; Be it only here excepted, that such as 
are Sentenced for Treason against the Kings 
Majesty, the State of England, or the Com- 
monweal ; shall forfeit to the King or Col- 
ony their personal Estate, their Lands being 
still at their disposal. 

VIII. That whereas the great and 
known end of the first comers, in the year 
of our Lord, 1620, leaving their dear Native 
Country, and all that was dear to them 
there ; Transporting themselves over the 
vast Ocean into this remote waste Wilder- 
ness, and therein willingly conflicting with 
Dangers, Losses, Hardships and Distresses 
sore and not a few; WAS, that without 
offence, they under the protection of their 
Native Prince, together with the enlarge- 
ments of his Majesty s Dominions, might 
with the liberty of a good conscience, enjoy 
the pure Scriptural Worship of God, with- 
out the mixture of Humane Inventions and 
Impositions : An^l that there children after 
them might walk in the Holy wayes of the 
Lord; And for which end they obtained 
leave from King James of happy Memory 
and his Honorable Council, with further 
Graunts from his Gracious Majesty Charles 
the first and his Honourable Council, by 
Letters Patents, for sundry Tracts of Land, 
with many Priviledges therein contained 
for their better incouragement to proceed 
on in so Pious a Work, which may espec- 
ially tend to the propagation of Religion, 
&c. as by Letters Patents more at large 
appeareth, and with further assurance also 
of the continuance of our Liberties and 



14S 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



The acts and laws of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, from 1692 to 
177G, do not present an}' new devolopment of legislative principle worthy of 
particular remark. As the other New England States were at first peopled 
from Massachusetts, her laws were the root of theirs.^ The usurpation of 
Andros, the loss of the charter, and the modified government^ which followed. 



Priviledges, both Civil & Eeligious, under 
the Royal Hand & Seal of our Sovereign 
Lord King Charles the Second: And 
whereas by the good Hand of our God upon 
us, many others since the first comers are 
for the same pious end come unto us, and 
sundry others rise up amongst us, desirous 
with all good conscience to walk in the faith 
and order of the Gospel ; whereby there are 
many churches gathered amongst us walk- 
ing according thereunto. 

And whereas (by the Grace of God) we 
have nowhad near about fifty Years Experi- 
ence, of the good consistency of these 
churches, with Civil Peace and Order, and 
also with spiritual Edification, together with 
the welfare and tranquility of the Govern- 
ment; 

It is therefore for the "honor of God and 
the propagation of Religion, and the con- 
tinued welfare of this Colony Ordered by 
this Court and the Authority thereof. That 
the said Churches already gathered, or that 
shall hereafter be orderly gathered, may 
and shall from time to time by this Govern- 
ment be protected and encouraged, in their 
peaceable and orderly walking, and the 
Faithful, Able, Orthodox, Teaching Minis- 
try thereof, duly encouraged and provided 
for ; together with such other Orthodox able 
Dispensers of the Gospel which shall or 
may be placed in any Township in this 
Government, where there is or may be 
defect of Church Order. 

IX. And finally, it is Ordered an.d De- 
clared by this Court and the Authority 
thereof, That all these foregoing Orders and 
Constitutions, are so Fundamentally essen- 
tial to the just Rights, Liberties, Common 
good and special end of this Colony, as that 
they shall and ought to be inviolable 
preserved. 

^ Dane's Digest of American Law. 
2 The revolution in England forms an 
^poch in American liistory. The effects of 



it were the most sensibly felt in the colony 
of Massachusetts. When the colonists re- 
sumed their charter in 1689, they earnestly 
solicited its reestablishment, with the addi- 
tion of some necessary powers ; but the 
king could not be prevailed on to consent 
to that measure, and a new charter was 
obtained. Sir William Phips arrived at 
Boston in May, with this charter, and a 
commission, constituting him governor. 
He was soon after conducted from his house 
to the town-house by the regiment of 
Boston, the militia companies of Charles- 
town, the magistrates, ministers, and prin- 
cipal gentlemen of Boston and the adjacent 
towns. The charter was first published, 
and then the governor's commission. The 
venerable old charter governor Bradstreet 
next resigned the chair. After the lieuten- 
ant-governor's commission was published, 
the oaths were administered ; and the new 
government thus became organized. 

The province, designated by the new 
charter, contained the whole of the old 
Massachusetts colony, to which were 
added the colony of Plymouth, the prov- 
ince of Maine, and Nova Scotia, as far 
northward as the river St. Lawrence; 
also Elizabeth islands, and the islands of 
Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard. Under 
the old charter, all the magistrates and 
officers of state were chosen annually by 
the General Assembly ; by the new char- 
ter, the appointment of the governor, lieu- 
tenant-governor, secretary, and all the 
officers of the admiralty, was vested in the 
crown. Under the old charter, the gover- 
nor had little more share in the administra- 
tion than any one of the assistants. He had 
the power of calling the General Court ; but 
he could not adjourn, prorogue, or dissolve 
it. To such acts the vote of the major part 
of the whole court was necessary. The 
governor gave commissions to civil and 
military officers ; but all such officers were 



SPEECH OF WILLIAM PENN. 



149 



were circumstances of partj' . These will be noticed in another connection. 
The modification, though retarding in some degree the progress of the col- 
onists, had the effect to direct their attention, with an increased interest 
to the study of their rights, and to add strength to previous resolutions in 
regard to their defence. The spirit of intolerance,^ which has been so fre- 



elected by the court. Under the new char- 
ter, there was to be an annual meeting of 
the General Court on the last Wednesday in 
May ; but the Governor might discretionally 
call an assembly at any other times, and 
adjourn, prorogue, and dissolve it, at pleas- 
ure. No act of government was to be valid 
without his consent. He had, with the con- 
sent of the council, the sole appointment of 
all military officers, and of all officers be- 
longing to the courts of justice. Other 
civil officers were elected by the two houses ; 
but the governor had a negative on the 
choice. No money could issue out of the 
treasury, but by his warrant, with the 
advice and consent of the Council. Under 
the old charter, the assistants or councillors 
were elected by the votes of all the free- 
men in the colony ; and were not only, with 
the governor, one of the two branches of the 
legislature, but the supreme executive 
court in all civil and criminal causes, 
excepting those cases where, by the laws, 
an appeal to the General Court was allowed. 
The new charter provided that, on the last 
Wednesday of May, annually, twenty-eight 
councillors should be newly chosen by the 
General Court or assembly. The represen- 
tatives, under the old charter, were elected 
by freemen only. Under the new charter, 
every freeholder of forty shillings sterling 
a year was a voter, and every other inhabi- 
tant who had forty pounds sterling personal 
estate. The new charter contained nothing 
of an ecclesiastical constitution. With the 
exception of Papists, liberty of conscience, 
which was not mentioned in the first char- 
ter, was by the second expressly granted to 
all. Writs having been immediately issued 
on the governor's arrival, the General 
Court met on the 8th of June. An act was 
then passed, declaring that all the laws of 
the colony of Massachusetts Bay and the 
colony of New Plymouth, not being repug- 
nant to the laws of England, nor inconsistent 



with the charter, should be in force, in the 
respective colonies, until the 10th of Novem- 
ber, 1692, excepting where other provision 
should be made by act of assembly. — 
Holmes^ Annals. 

1 The spirit manifested by William Penn, 
in regard to legislation, is worthy of especial 
notice. He seemed to lament the necessity 
of government, and, while he claimed a 
control as governor, he appeared unwilling 
to admit that the liberties of the people 
were in any degree abridged. In a speech, 
delivered April 1, 1700, at a meeting of the 
Provincial Council of Pennsylvania, he 
said : 

" Friends, Tho' this be a Colonic of 19 
years standing, & not inferiour to anie of its 
age, yet wee have much to do to establish 
its constituon & Courts of Justice ; there 
are in it some Laws obsolete, others hurt- 
full, others imperfect, y' will need improv- 
m', & it will be requisit to make some new 
ones ; wee cannot go to slow to make, nor 
too fast to execute them when made, & 
y' w' diligence & discretion, a few well 
made & duly executed, will better ans"" y* 
ends of governm' yn a greater bulk unexe- 
cuted. You friends are y^ the people's 
choice & my Council ; you'll see what Laws 
are fitt to be Left outt & what to be made, 
& you w' mee, are to prepare & propose ym. 
I say this the rather becaus of a false 
notion some have gott y* becaus you are my 
Council yrfor you are not y' people's repre- 
sentatives. The ablest men have always 
been chosen to be of y" Council to prepare 
Laws, & y- Assembly to consent to ym ; 
wee are two bodies yet but One power, the 
one prepares, y' other consents. Friends, 
If in the Constituon by Charter, there be 
anie thing y* jarrs, alter itt; if you want a 
law for this or that, prepare itt ; I advise 
you not to trifle w* govern*. I wish there 
were no need of anie, but since Crimes pre- 
vail govrm' is made necessarie by man's 



150 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACr. 



qiicntl}' charged against the legislation of the colonists, will be consid- 
ered in another chapter, where party issues will be traced to their 



original sources. 



dogeneraon ; Itt's not an end but a means ; 
hee y thinks itt an end aims at profitt to 
make a trade on't. Hee who thinks itt to 
to be a means understands y^ true end of 
goverm'. Eriends, away w' all pties, & 
Look on yo''selves & what is good for all, as 
a body politick, first as undr y^ king & 
Crown of England, & next as und"" me, by 
Lres patent from y' Crown. Att y' Late 
election at Philadelphia, I was grieved to 
hear some make itt a matter of religion, no 
its humane & moral relating to trade, 
trafSque & publick good, consisting in 
virtue & justice ; where these are maintained 
there is government indeed. Study peace, 
& be att unitie, ey y' good of all, & I desire 
to see mine no otherwise than in y" pub- 
lick's prosperitie. The last Ass. wee made 
2 Laws, the one ag' piracie, y" other ag* for- 
bidden trade. I hear they have not satt 
easie on y^ backs of some, but I hope, wee 
having yrin been carefull of England, wee 
shall have thanks for making ym before 
wee had orders so to do, and after so manie 
calumnies & complaints wee have been 
Loaded with, I hope these two Laws will 
in some degree wash us clean ; what con- 
cerns myself I also Leave wt you to Con- 
sider. I have been now 19 years yo"" pror 
& Governo% & have att my chairge main- 
tained my deputie, qrby I have much worst- 
ed my estate, & hope itt will be no wonder 
to any to hear mee make this Lection of itt. 
Some say I come to gett monie & be gone, 
phapps they that say so, wish itt so. I hope 
I or mine shall be wt you, while I or they 
Live — The disasters of my absence have 
been mine as well as yours, & as I'm used 
shall make suteable returns. I have latelie 
two packotts from Whitehall, an original & 
a duplicate ; also one to my Cosen Markham, 
& two from Secrie Vernon, & am Com- 
manded by y Lords Justices to make Laws 
ag' piracie and illegal trade. I am glad wee 
have prevented their Commands in doing it 
before they came." 



Thereafter, a motion being made by a 
member of Council, that they might have a 
new Charter : Then y" pror & Gor ask't 
whether they thought the Charter was 
Living, dead or asleep ; is it vacated by 
y" act of Settlement, or in what state is itt. 
A member made ans', that they never 
Look't on't to be void or dead, becaus att 
Go'' Fletcher's coming, wee made a salvo of 
it in y* assemblie books, & another salvo of 
it in y* frame of govrmt, as to its funda- 
mentalls, but y Circurastantialls of itt as 
to time, place and number, and rotation, 
wee could notreassume. Ourbussines now 
is to do good, y'' Go" being here to confirm 
itt, & he having in his Charter, power to call 
us as hee pleases, ye manner is but circum- 
stance, the meetting is essential ; Letts take 
what's fitt & good both in y*" charter & frame, 
& Lett's make a Constituton y' may be firm 
& Lasting to us & ours ; This makes no 
breach on the old Laws, but will confirm 
what's reasonable, both in ym, y* charter & 
frame. 

Then y Gor said: The act of set- 
lem^ served till I came ; now I'm come. It 
Cannot bind me ag' my owne act, the 
charter it being my grant, & the people my 
wittness by y"^ acceptaon of it, and tho' some 
violence connot be resisted, yet when the 
violence is taken off, y^ Charter returns, & 
how can it return but by writt. 

Therafter y® pror & Gor resolved y^ whole 
members of Council into a grand Comittee, 
to meet hora tertia, p. m. , to read y'' Charter 
& frame of govermn', & to keep what's good 
in either, to lay aside what's inconvenient 
& burdensome, & to add to both what may 
best suit y^ Comon good, & if you be under 
any doubt He solve itt, & psent to mee 
what you do yrin to-morrow morning for 
my perusall. 

Adjourned to 2^ April, 1700. — Minutes of 
the Provincial Council, Vol. i, p. 5GS. 



COLONIAL GOVERNMENTS. 151 

COLONIAL GOVERNMENTS. 

Although the colonies were subjected to the nominal sovereignty of Great 
Britain, 3'et most of the early influences, privileges, restraints and institu- 
tions, established around them, were of their own choice and making. 
While they were willing to avail themselves of whatever advantages the 
mother country could extend to them, the}' did not hesitate to reject what 
their judgment could not approve, when proposed for their adoption ; and 
their distance from all civilized nations was a circumstance favoring 
exemption from home rule, and stimulating that free exercise of all the 
faculties of the mind, in the discussion of their rights, which soon began to 
give them new traits of character, and which have been continued to their 
descendants. 

Diversity of privileges, of interests, and of experience, was secured to 
them in the different forms in which Great Britain extended her laws and 
protection to the different colonies. The form of each became the stud}- of 
all the others, and the results of each were separate, exhibiting the true 
causes of success or of failure. 

The governments originally formed in the different colonies^ were of three 
kinds, namely, the provincial, the proprietar}-, and the charter.^ 

1. The provincial governments had no fixed constitution, but derived all 
their authority from commissions issued from time to time by the crown. 
They were subject to the pleasure of the king. A governor and council 
were appointed, and these were invested with general executive powers, and 
were authorized to convene a general assembl}' of the representatives of the 
freeholders and planters of the province. The assembly was the lower and 
the council the upper house. The governor was invested with a veto power 
upon all their proceedings, and had the power to prorogue and dissolve them. 
The legislature had power to make all local laws and ordinances not repug- 
nant to the laws of England. Under this form of government. New Hamp- 
shire, New York, New Jersey, Virginia, South Carolina, North Carolina and 
Georgia, were governed as provinces, at the commencement of the American 
Revolution ; and some of them had been so governed from an early period 
of their settlement. 



1 The colony of Virginia was the earhest Carolina, in 1663; the colony of New 

in its origin, being settled in 1606. The Jersey, in 1664 ; the colony of Pennsyl- 

colony of Plymouth (united with Massa- vania, in 16S1; the colony of Delaware, in 

chusetts in 1692) was settled in 1620; the 1682; the colony of Georgia, in 1732. 

colony of Massachusetts, in 1628 ; the These dates refer to permanent settlements 

colony of New Hampshire, in 1629 ; the made under distinct and organized govern- 

colony of Maryland, in 1632 ; the colony of nients, and not to the earlier and discon- 

Connecticut, in 1635 ; the colony of Rhode nected settlements of the colonies. 
Island, in 1636 ; the colony of New York, 

in 16G2; the colonies of North and South 2 gee "Republic United States" 



152 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

2. The proprietary governments were grants by letters-patent, from the 
crown, to one or more persons, as proprietary^ or proprietaries, conveying 
to them not only the right of the soil, but also the general powers of govern- 
ment within the territory so granted, in the nature of feudatory principalities 
or dependent royalties ; possessing within their own domains nearly the same 
authorit}^ which the crown possessed in the provincial governments, subject, 
however, to the control of the king. The governor was appointed by the 
proprietary or proprietaries, and the legislature was organized and convened 
according to his or their pleasure. Tlie executive functions and preroga- 
tives were exercised by him or them, either personally or by the governor, 
for the time being. At the time of the Revolution, only three governments 
existed in this form, namely, Mar3'land, held by Lord Baltimore, as 
proprietary, and Pennsylvania and Delaware, held by William Penn, as 
proprietar3\ 

3. Charter governments were political corporations, created by letters- 
patent, w^hich conferred on the grantees and their associates the soil within 
their territorial limits, and all the high powers of legislative government. 
The charters contained a fundamental constitution for the colon}^, distribut- 
ing the powers of government into three great departments, — legislative, 
executive and judicial, — providing for the mode in which these powers 
should be vested and exercised. The charter governments existing at 
the time of the Revolution were Massachusetts, Rhode Island and 
Connecticut. 

It was a remark of the late Judge Storj-, that "notwithstanding these dif- 
ferences in their original and actual political organization, the colonies, at 
the time of the American Revolution, in most respects, enjoyed the same 
general rights and privileges." Although we ma}" not dissent from this 
general remark, still it must be admitted that these differences are suffi- 
ciently marked to be noticed as distinct and separate causes ; and though 
their effects may have been blended in a common experience, we cannot but 
regard them as sources of different results, and, as such, leading in some 
degree to diversity of character. 

The provincial government was the absolute sovereignty of the crown, 
transferred at pleasure from an island to the continent, without any guar- 
antee as to favor or permanency. 

The proprietary government gave an interest in the soil, but that interest 
was secured to individuals, and the relations between the people and the 
proprietaries were those of dependence. 

The charter government was a division of powers between two great par- 
ties according to fixed conditions, each part}" having certain defined and 
reserved rights, the subordinate government being independent only under a 
constitution. 

It will be perceived that in these forms of government there are three dis- 



COLONIAL GOVERNMENTS. 153 

tinct degrees of liberty ; and yet the scale is graduated to a common head, — 
the British crown, — and to which all acknowledged their allegiance. 

" In all of these," says Judge Story, " express provision was made that 
all subjects and their children inhabiting in the colonies should be deemed 
natural-born subjects, and should enjoy all the privileges and immunities 
thereof. In all of them the common law of England, as far as it was appli- 
cable to their situation, was made the basis of their jurisprudence." Not 
that the entire system was introduced into any one colou}^, but only such 
portions of it as each found adapted to its own wants, and were applicable 
to its own situation. Of this each colony judged for itself. 

It is further remarked by the same author, that " although the colonies 
had a common origin and common right, and owed a common allegiance, 
and the inhabitants of all of them were British subjects, they had no direct 
political connection with each other. Each colony was independent of the 
others, and there was no confederacy or alliance between them. They were 
excluded from all political connection with foreign nations, and thej 
followed the fate and fortunes of the parent country in peace and war. 
Still, the colonists were not wholl}^ alien to each other. On the contrary, 
they were fellow-subjects, and, for many purposes, one people. Every colo- 
nist had a right, if he pleased, in any other colony, to trade therewith, and 
to inherit and hold lands therein." 

Having thus taken a rapid survey of principles, the inquiries still remain 
to be pursued, — In what way, and by what means, were these principles 
applied by the colonists, and what were their natural or legitimate results ? 
These subjects are yet to be considered. 



PERIODS OF PAETY— RESULTS OF PARTY PRINCIPLES. 

It is much with parties as it is with men, — they have their distinctive 
principles, periods of thought, periods of development, periods of action, 
periods of failure, and periods of success. Whatever is true is successful or 
progressive ; whatever is just is permanent or certain. Every period of 
development is limited or extended according to the nature or magiiitude of 
the truth to be made manifest, and is closed by results which are recognized 
by a common judgment, and incorporated into a common experience. 

As everj^ period is characterized by its peculiar events and opinions, it is 
found to be marked by corresponding and S3"stematic endeavors. Its plans 
are matured, tested and completed ; and, as representative men are to be 
seen in individuals, representative parties may be found in communities. 

Parties are permanent in their nature, but progressive in their action, — 
organizing and reorganizing in regard to the necessity of new wants, or the 
adoption of new truths. The church has its periods of reformation, correct- 
ing abuses and reconstructing creeds ; but the principles of religion remain 



154: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

tho same. Science stands like a mountain of truth, to be levelled and 
applied to the condition of man hj the schools of intellect, each having its 
periods and generations of partisan activity. Governments have their periods 
of activity, either to illustrate the evils of absolutism, or the benefits of 
freedom ; while the principles of Democracy remain unchanged. Industry 
has its questions of protection ; commerce its questions of extension ; terri- 
tor}' its questions of control or division ; and currenc}^ its complicated ques- 
tions of adjustment ; — each interest, and each question of every interest, 
requiring a particular period for asserting fundamental principles, for exper- 
imental demonstration, and passing through the ordeal of party.i 

The improvement of man does not imply a change of nature, nor does 
progress necessaril}^ indicate a change of principle. The same principle 
admits of numberless applications ; the same idea is continued, and placed in 
new and instructive relations. As the generations of men mark the periods 
of a race, so the tests of experience mark the periods of mind. 

The events of life, whether of a private or of a public nature, are to be 
classified, and considered as illustrative of wisdom or of folly, according as 
they are shaped by a sound judgment, in view of a common good, or b}' a 
reckless habit, guided by no motive above that of a sordid interest or a 
passive indifference. Where wisdom prevails, societj' is elevated or advanced ; 
where folly or ignorance rules, society becomes depressed or degraded. 
Eeference is not made to individual examples, nor to limited periods of time, 
but to the prevalent habits of a people, by which they become characterized 
through successive and uninterrupted generations. Without a general suc- 
cess, decay is certain ; without a greater regard for truth than error, advance 
is impossible. A community thrives and prospers by its industry and 
frugalit^^, or it becomes weakened or ruined b}^ its idleness and shameless 
neglect of duty. A nation increases its power by the adoption of just prin- 
ciples of government, and becomes respected ; or it falls by following the 
counsels of imbecile rulers, and becomes the subject of misrule and the object 
of contempt. 

It is thus with political parties. Although they are formed to-day, as it 
were, of men of similar views, sympathies, tendencies of disposition and of 
mind, they have their perpetual succession.^ They are not to be considered 



1 "Human power," says Baron Humboldt, or, at least, exercises such modifying in- 

"can only manifest itself in any one period, fluences that the external pressure of cir- 

in one way, but it can infinitely modify this cumstances can procure no other." — The 

manifestation ; at any given epoch, there- Sphere and Duties of Government, p. 193. 

fore, it betrays a single and one-sided 2 it is a remark of Bancroft, that "The 

aspect, but in a series of different periods contest of parties is the struggle, not be- 

these combine to give the image of a twcen persons, but between ideas ; and the 

wonderful multiformity. Every preceding abiding sympathy of nations is never w^on 

condition of things is either the complete and but by an appeal to the controlling princi- 

sufficient cause of that which succeeds it, i)les of the age." — U. S. Vol. hi, p. 322. 



PERIODS OF PARTY. 155 

as transitory combinations in respect to particular questions of polity or 
interest, — of a certain people in a particular age, — but as permanent repre- 
sentatives of fundamental principles. Party is not without its pedigree ; 
and the occasional departures from great immutable principles afford the 
most conclusive evidence of the fact. These distinctions are given in a 
former chapter. 

As political parties are formed with distinct and direct regard to measures 
of national tendency and results, they should be tried by a standard of cor- 
responding extent, embracing principles which comprehend the causes and 
indicate the conditions of things. Party measures, designed for national 
advancement, sometimes require long periods of time for development. 
Prejudices are to be overcome, interests adjusted , opinions revised, and new 
habits of thought and practice tested and established. All this is the slow 
work of time ; and to be persuaded that such a process is constantly going 
on among the people, it is only necessary to review the events and opinions 
of the past, and compare them with those of the present. The inquirer will 
not only see great changes of opinion, but will discover that principles always 
remain the same. He will find that party, like the atmosphere which sur- 
rounds the globe, and visits its surface with every degree of power, from the 
gentle zephjT to the furious tempest, has its fixed laws and boundaries. The 
same law that vibrates the strings of the JEolian lyre prostrates the forest ; 
the same vital element that affords life to the invisible mite is alike indis- 
pensable to the man. 

THE POLITICAL PxlRTIES OF THE COLONIES. 

In reviewing the political parties of the colonies, it will be necessarj' to 
consider their peculiar relations. The difficulties of such a study cannot 
be appreciated b}^ an}^ one who has not attempted to analyze historically 
the colonial events and measures of America. Though these remarks must 
be general, it is hoped that they may be sufficiently definite to enable every 
reader to classify and apply the facts afforded by history. When facts are 
but slightly and imperfectlj" recorded by the historian, it is more profitable 
to select such for illustration and instruction, with a distinct standard of 
principle in view, than to vex and fatigue the mind with disconnected details, 
which mean nothing and teach nothing.^ 



1 The intelligent author of ^^ Rule and were in general situated at a distance from 
Misrvle of the English in America" has each other, having at first little or no con- 
alluded to the "want of continuity" in nection, either political, social or commer- 
American Colonial History. He says : "The cial, among themselves, and deriving but 
early settlements made by the English in trifling assistance, and less protection, from 
America were effected either by mdividual the mother country. They grew up into 
speculators or associated companies. They powerful cok)nies, in neglect and obscurity, 



156 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

The principles of the colonists, and the events of their emigration, have 
been briefly considered ; and the inquiry now arises, — In what way their 
principles were practically applied, and by what means their institutions were 
graduall}' established, and permanently sustained? In arriving at the con- 
clusion that thc}^ were led to people the New World by the spirit of Democ- 
racy, the reader will naturally be prepared to find that they were animated 
and encouraged by the same spirit in the wilderness. In this he will not be 
disappointed. Although the Puritans could not divest themselves of human- 
it}', nor free themselves from that diversity of disposition which is incident 
to all societ}', however limited, j^et the}^ were placed in position as a dominant 
party, and were enabled to control the results of an independent judgment, 
and to direct them in channels of their own choice, and shaped to ends of 
their own conception. As their numbers were insignificant at the beginning, 
they were viewed indiflferently as subjects, though with suflScient concern to 
require from them one-fifth part of all the gold that they should find ; and, 
as a security rather that the crown might share with them a portion of their 
profits, though in no way to be held for their losses, they were required to 
be true to their sovereign, and to the acts of Parliament. The}^ were 
regarded as troublesome levellers, — a faction of heretics, — and were in no 
respect, for a single moment, counted as a part}^, or the nucleus of a party 
to control the nation. They were going where they could neither make 
allies for power, nor converts for influence. As for themselves, in view of 
the established church, no subjects could stand worse ; and government 
indulged in no serious hopes that they would ever become better.^ Their 
professions of principle were looked upon as dangerous and delusive assump- 
tions, and their untiring zeal as the infection of Satan. Hence, the further 
removed, the safer for the faithful. Nevertheless, this insignificant band 
represented the Democratic Party of Great Britain ; — not its interests, but 
its principles ; not its subserviency, but its independence. The colonists 
were partj'-men in England ; they did not cease to be party-men in Amer- 
ica.2 As they brought with them no important interests to defend, they 



with a rapidity and vigor that astonished their details, to be either interesting or 

Europe. They were without precedent in instructive." 

the previous annals of England, and the i " I had rather live like a hermit in the 

political agitation of the public mind in the forest," said King James, " than be a king 

present state unhappily afforded no oppor- over such a people as the pack of Puritans 

tunity for establishing their relation on a are that overrules the lower House." 

proper foundation, or arranging a consistent 2 It is not deemed necessary, in these 

and uniform plan for their government, general remarks to make a distinction 

The accounts we have of them, therefore, between those who settled at Plymouth, and 

are detached, and their interest is destroyed those who settled at Massachussets Bay. 

for want of continuity. Every plantation Although different in station and means, 

has had its annalist ; but the narratives are most of them were of the same political 

too local, too minute, and too similar in views. 



PARTY RELATIONS OF THE COLONISTS. 157 

employed their mental energies in fortifying tlieir principles. As thc}^ 
looked to no Parliament for protection, tlie}' feared no Parliament for 
restraint. They were alone^ and, at the beginning, united ; and yet in no 
degree did they abandon their habits of party vigilance, or lessen their 
spirit of party jealousy. Separated and essentially freed from the iron 
control of a powerful government sustained by a powerful party, the}' 
erected a new standard of advancement, by immediately reducing their 
principles to practice, and by establishing and occupying new outposts, to 
guard their rights against future dangers. Relieved from the crushing 
weight of arbitrary power, they were able to stand upright before their 
Maker in their native strength, and to study with a manly spirit the 
grandeur of their new position, and to realize those expanding views which 
truth inspires and freedom permits. Placed in. new relations,, new objects 
were presented for contemplation ; laboring in unincumbered positions, 
enlarged obligations imposed new duties. Withdrawn from the over- 
shadowing influence of a ponderous monarchy, and sheltered from the glare 
of roj^alty, they were, for the first time, enabled to look upon the simple 
framework of Democracy, and to study with uninterrupted composure its 
foundations, its columns of support, its braces, its S3^mmetry, its beauties and 
its wants. Exempted from the pressure of the Courts of High Commission, 
and from the sleepless eye of a Bishops?' Bench, they could now studj- the 
prophets with boldness, and the apostles with unrestrained devotion. Their 
church, now placed upon a hill, and viewed awa}^ from the dim cathedral- 
light of power and ceremony, appeared more beautiful than ever in the broad 
sun-light of heaven, — ^presenting new aspects of truth, and familiar truths 
in new relations of sublimit3^ Endowed with different capacities, and blessed 
by attainments varying in degree and kind ; representing different races, 
nations, habits and motives ; placed in new points of observation, and left to 
the free exercise of their reflective faculties, — it is not surprising that some 
of the colonists should think more and feel less, while others would feel more 
and think less, and thus begin a new line of division, and manifest still the 
spirit of party in adjusting new issues,, or in the new application of acknowl- 
edged principles. Such a result was natural ; and,, when viewed in reference 
to all the circumstances of their condition, their' wants and their hopes, it 
will be found to have been their greatest source oH safety, their surest m.eans 
of progress. As their relation to Great Britain was still one of a party 
nature, and they were liable to the inroads of further emigration, their party 
discipline, within their narrow circle, became, of necessity, not only of the 
strictest kind, but in its nature exclusive. In them\ intolerance became a 
virtue, — an imperative condition of existence.. That is, thej^ could permit 
no habits, no opinions^ no discussions, but such as were safe for them in 
their critical and unfortiHed position. To have conceded less would have 



158 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



been difficult ; to have conceded more, dangerous.^ Such was their judg- 
ment. They commenced by making sure a democratic platform, and within 
its limits they were ready for labor and for action. Here they desired to 
stop, that they might build up to the standard which they had already 
erected. They had no time for change, or for mental contest among them- 
selves. The}^ were sufficiently agreed to be united in their chief purposes, 
and content to be controlled by a compact that secured to them equal rights 
and equal privileges. Democracy was to be preserved, rooted, cultivated 
and strengthened, so that it might be applied to more extended interests, 
and be employed to open new 'sources of light and influence.^ 

It may be well in this connection to note the distinction to be observed 



I'^The character and education of the 
leading men, both of Plymouth and Massa- 
chusetts, was such as to fit them for the 
enterprise which they undertook, — to form 
a religious and political society, founded in 
the equal rights of men, and in obedience 
to God as their supreme law-giver and 
governor. Their distinguishing trait of char- 
acter was a sacred regard for divine revela- 
tion, united with the conviction that civil 
government was essential to social order 
and justice. But republican or democratic 
principles were recognized in their full 
extent. The whole body of the freemen 
were to choose magistrates, and make the 
laws in person, or by their deputies ; and 
every attempt to evade this principle was 
early opposed and suppressed. Their zeal 
for religion, and for the support of Chris- 
tianity, was generally wisely tempered by 
their knowledge of human nature, and of 
the importance of civil authority. The 
condition of their native country had 
served to prepare them to be political as 
well as religious guides. Brewster, Brad- 
ford, Winslow and Prence, of Plymouth, 
and Winthrop, Bellingham, Ludlow, Dud- 
ley, Nowell, Pelham, Pynchon and Brad- 
street, were qualified, from their knowledge 
and experience, to direct the affairs of civil 
government. If they differed, in some of 
their enactments and policy, from the old 
governments of Europe, it was not through 
ignorance or fanaticism, but from a refer- 
ence to their peculiar situation, and from a 
supreme regard to the divine authority. All 
the freemen were on a level, and, therefore, 



had equal rights ; and a less strict discipline 
than was adopted towards strangers and 
intruders would have subjected the infant 
colony to confusion and misrule, if not to 
an entire overthrow." — Bradford' s Mass.j 
p. 31. 
. 2 The horror of toleration in the early 
part of the seventeenth century was hardly 
to be limited. Bossuet, in France, the illus- 
trious champion of the Church of Rome, 
the Scotch Commissioners in London, the 
English Presbyterian clergy in their official 
papers, — all were violently opposed to the 
introduction of a "sinful and ungodly tol- 
eration in matters of religion." "My 
judgment," said the moderate Baxter, " I 
have always freely made known. I abhor 
unlimited liberty, or toleration of all." The 
distinguished Edwards, who lived at a later 
period, said, "Toleration will make the 
kingdom a chaos, a Babel, another Amster- 
dam, a Sodom, an Egypt, a Babylon. Tol- 
eration is the grand work of the devil, his 
master-piece and chief engine to uphold 
his tottering kingdom. It is the most com- 
pendious, ready, sure way to destroy all 
religion, lay all waste, and bring in all evil. 
It is a more transcendent, catholic and 
fundamental evil. As original sin is tha 
fundamental sin, having the seed and spawn 
of all sins in it, so toleration hath all errors 
in it, and all evils." — See VerplancJc's Dis- 
courses, pp. 23, 24. Surrounded by such 
an atmosphere in the world of mind, a 
community more tolerant than the colonists 
would have been crushed by the external 
pressure of the spirit of control. 



CONSERVATIVE PRINCIPLE, CONSERVATIVE PARTY. 159 

between the conservative principle and the conservative party. The con- 
servative principle is one of the conditions of growth — growth of every kind. 
It is the union or concentration of parts which belong together, and which 
make a perfect whole. The great error of the conservative party consists 
in the misapplication of the conservative principle. To limit, when extension 
is demanded, to be silent, when silence is treason ; and to withdraw or turn 
back, when progressive action is needed.^ In Democracy, this principle 
leads to the maturity of measures, which in themselves are of a progressive 
nature, each measure requiring a particular period for development or com- 
pletion. It protects individual rights against conventional control ; it pro- 
tects the town against the encroachments of the state ; it protects the state 
against the nation, — and the nation against the world. It protects experi- 
mental measures against premature judgment, and private interests from the 
abyss hf public indifference. As the spirit of progress is the natural barrier 
to consolidation, it is the abuse of this principle which leads to it. While it 
tends to unite the parts in their natural harmonj', in particular things, it is 
the spirit of progress which recognizes a S3'stem of which all these things are 
but parts. Applied with judgment, it becomes a maturing process ; when 
adopted as a leading principle, it reduces the parts, and fails to produce a 
perfect whole. 

The beginning and the slow growth of the American colonies discover 
every variety of circumstance and character necessary to a causative diver- 
sit}', and in these may be found all those elements of humanit}^ which lead 
to party formations, and tend to develop the true sources of national success. 
It required but little of the learning of Lord Bacon to enjoin patience on 
" all who would plant colonies ; " but, to understand the laws and conditions 
of their fluctuating growth, would seem to demand the aid of his genius. 

Virginia and Massachusetts have been aptly designated as the mothers of 
States. This significant appellation is not without truth ; and it becomes 
a subject of interesting inquiry, in what respect and in what degree it is an 
instructive one. With various motives, and under various impelling influ- 
ences, the people of Virginia extended their settlements on the Ohio and the 
Tennessee.^ The intolerance of Massachusetts helped the growth of the 
Pl^Tiiouth Colony ; banished Williams to become the founder of Rhode 



1 The errrors of the two great parties are Without any reference to the particnlar 

tlms defined by Lord Bolingbroke, who, in application of this remark, it affords some 

speaking of the Whigs (Democrats) and idea of the diiJerence between the errors of 

Tories of England, says, — "Both (parties) the Democratic party and the errors of the 

saw their errors. The tories stopped short Conservative party, so far as they may be 

in the pursuit of a had principle. The classified. 

Whigs reformed the abuse of a good, one.'* 2 Bancroft, Vol. iv, p. 168. 



160 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Island ;^ diverted DaA'enport, Eaton and Hopkins, to Quinnipiac,^ where 
Connecticut was commenced ; and sent Wheelwright, who was excluded for 



1 Roger "Williams arrived in America on 
the oth of February, 1G30— 31. He was 
settled as a minister of the gospel at Salem 
and at Plymouth. He was soon accused of 
heresies, and was repeatedly summoned to 
appear before the General Court, at Boston. 
In July, 1G35, at a meeting of the General 
Court, he was charged as having uttered the 
following "dangerous opinions," namely: 
" That the magistrate ought not to punish 
the breach of the first table, otherwise than 
in such cases as did disturb the civil peace ; 
2, That he ought not to tender an oath to 
an unregenerate man ; 3, That a man ought 
not to pray with such, though wife, child, 
&c. ; 4, That a man ought not to give 
thanks after the sacrament, nor after meat, 
&c." These dangerous opinions excited 
much feeling, and elicited much discussion ; 
and the result was a vote of banishment, at 
a meeting of the Court held in October of 
the same year. The sentence was in these 
terms: "Whereas Mr. Roger Williams, 
one of the elders of the church of Salem, 
hath broached and divulged divers new 
and dangerous opinions against the author- 
ity of magistrates, and also writ letters of 
defamation, both of the magistrates and 
churches here, and that before any convic- 
tion, and yet maintaineth the same without 
any retraction ; it is therefore orderd that 
the said Mr. Williams shall depart out of 
this jurisdiction within six weeks now next 
ensuing, which if he neglect to perform, it 
shall be lawful for the governor and two of 
the magistrates to send him to some place 
out of this jurisdiction, not to return any 
more without license from the Court." He 
became the founder of Rhode Island. — See 
Winthrop, Vol. i, pp. 151 — 171. 

In a letter of the late Gov. Dorr, of R. 
I., to the author, in 1853, he says, — "Roger 
Williams was the Father of American De- 
mocracy, and the first in all time to pro- 
mulgate the true doctrine of entire religious 
liberty, — not toleration, which implies a 
superior and a right to persecute." An- 
other letter to the author, from Isaac Davis, 



LLD., Worcester Mass., — in 1871, con- 
tains the following interesting passage : 
"Religious liberty in America was estab- 
lished by Roger Williams and his associates. 
Roger Williams was born in Wales in 1599, 
was graduated at Oxford University under 
the patronage of Sir Edward Coke. He 
came to America, landing at Boston, Feb- 
ruary, 1631. He was banished from Mass- 
achusetts on account of his sentiments on 
religious freedom m Oct^. 1G35. He fled 
out of the jurisdiction to Naragansett Bay, 
and established a settlement there, which he 
called Providence. In 1639 he formed 
there a Baptist Church, the first in America. 
He inculcated the great doctrine, — ' That 
civil rulers had no power or authority to 
yroscrihe, enjoin or regulate, religious 
belief.' This doctrine is now recognized 
throughout the United States. Thomas 
Jefferson was appointed Chairman of a 
Committee in the Continental Congress of 
1776, to draft a Declaration of Independ- 
ence. He reported that wonderful docu- 
ment which was adopted by Congress, July 
4, 1776. When President of the United 
States, he was asked where he got his 
notions of liberty, equality, and independ- 
ence, contained in the declaration? He an- 
swered, from a little Baptist Church in the 
vicinity of Monticello. Every Baptist 
Church is a pure democracy, — where all 
have equal rights in voting and regulating 
their affairs. They choose their pastor 
without the interference of any other 
power." 

2 A new company for emigration was 
formed in England in the year 1636, chiefly 
through the efforts of Theophilus Eaton, 
John Davenport, and Edward Hopkins. 
They appear to have determined, before 
leaving England, on no particular place for 
settlement; but sailed for Massachusetts, 
and arrived June 26, 1637, reserving the 
selection of a place of abode till after their 
arrival. Inducements were held out to the 
company to fix their residence in Boston, 
and, likewise, to unite with the original 



EFFECTS OF PARTY SPIRIT. 161 

his dangeroiif? heresies of non-conformit}', to begin a settlement at the falls 
of Squamscot, — the germ of New Hampshire.^ 

Thus it will be found that party spirit, in its extreme acts of exclusion, is 
not without its benefits ; and while one principle is fortified and sustained by 
unit}^, another may be equally promoted b}' discord and diversit3\ Bigotry 
is not alone to be found in the established church, nor in the religious 
world. It is an element of character inharmoniously developed in the 
hum.an mind, more or less in all the departments of thought and sentiment. 
It may be termed an isolated consciousness of self appreciation without 
.regard to facts or the convictions of other minds. The bigot is not so 
indolent as Cowper would make him, nor so insignificant as represented by 
Pope. According to the former, 

"To follow foolish precedents, and wink 
With both our eyes, is easier than to think." 

While the latter, unwilling to recognize the importance of orthodox zeal, 
says, 

" For modes of filth let graceless zealots fight; 
His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right." 

The Christian, the infidel, the pagan, may be a bigot, but the character, 
though more consistent with som.e creeds than others, — is not necessarily 
derived from anj' particular faith. 

If the settlement of a vast continent were surrendered entirely to the 
influence of the social principle, and made to depend upon the harmon}' of 
views, it is obviously certain that it could never be accomplished. All dis- 
senters would be compelled to leave ; and those who were united in so partial 
a manner would seek the narrowest limits, and stud}^ the narrowest polic3\ 
Sources of enterprise and wealth would remain undiscovered, and man}' of 
the means of advancement in the refinements of society would remain 
unknown. But, in adopting this conclusion,, the reader is not to infer that it 
warrants an}^ pm'pose of intentional nan-conformity. For such a construc- 



colony at Plymouth ; but they most probably and schism. It terminated in banishing 
entertained, from the first, a wish to begin, from that colony the principal persons who 
if possible, a new settlement. It is certain bore that name of reproach. Conspicuous 
that they were not altogether pleased with among the exiles were the learned and truly 
the state of things in either of the colonies pious AVheelwright, and his famous sister, 
already planted. After visiting various Anne Hutchinson. They had before pur- 
places, they decided in favor of Quinnipiac, chased some lands of the Indians at Squam- 
now New Haven, — for which place they scot Falls, and now came, with the few 
sailed from Boston on the 30th of March, friends who followed them into banishment, 
1G38, andin about a fortnight arrived in and began a plantation. They called it Exe- 
safety. — See Prof. KingsUy's Historical ter ; and here was laid the foundation of New 
Discourse^ 1838. See Appendix I. Hampshire. — See Barstow's History of 
1 In 1638, the Antinomian controversy, New Hampshire, p. 40 ; TrurabulV.s CoM' 
at Boston, had occasioned a violent strife necticut, vol. 1, p. 6. 
11 



1G2 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACr. 

tion breaks down all proper distinction between the will of man and the 
events of Providence. Such a truth indicates the proper course of studv, — 
the investigation of things according to their nature, — the understanding of 
man, with a distinct knowledge of his faculties, and of the laws by which 
they are governed. The adoption of an}- other one principle, to be followed 
out, according to its distinctive nature, would be attended with like delusive 
results. Although single ideas require special means for development, it 
cannot be expected, by any considerate man, that the}' are to be successfully- 
advanced except in harmony with the general condition and wants of society. 

In tracing the events of freedom, as recorded in the various histories of 
the American colonies, and in attemj)ting to point out some of the party 
means b}' which that freedom has been preserved, enlarged and continued, it 
is not with an}^ motive to commit the error complained of by Sir James 
Mackintosh, — to establish the " pedigree of freedom,"^ — but rather to show, 
that in no period of time have nations been exempted from party spirit, and 
that the great and progressive cause of liberty has been in the keeping of the 
Democratic party. Imperceptibly small it may have been, at times, but 
alwaj^s present, — in a spark to kindle, or in a blaze on the hill-tops of a 
nation, — to gladden ever3^where the mighty heart of humanity. 

But let us take a rapid survey of colonial events, scattered upon the pages 
of imperfect records ; and as the waters of the bubbling spring and mountain 
brook glisten on their way to the majestic river, so let us endeavor to catch 
an occasional glimpse of those gushes of freedom which shine between the dark 
intervals of tyranny-, and finally widen and unite in the broad, deep and 



" A pleader at the Old Bailey who ■would racy. This Gothic transfer of genealogy to 

attempt to aggravate the guilt of a robber truth and justice is peculiar to pontics. The 

or a murderer, by proving that King John existence of robbery in one age makes its 

or King Alfred punished robbery and m.ur- vindication in the next ; and the champions 

der, would only provoke derision. A man of freedom have abandoned the stronghold 

who should pretend that the reason why we of right for precedent, which, when the 

have right to property is, because our ^ces- most favorable, is, as might be expected 

tors enjoyed that right four hundred years from the ages which furnish it, feeble, fluc- 

ago, would be justly contemned. Yet so tuating, partial and equivocal. It is not 

little is plain sense heard in the mysterious because we have been free, but because we 

nonsense which is the cloak of political have a right to be free, that we ought to 

fraud, that the Cokes, the Blackstones, and demand freedom. Justice and liberty have 

the Burkes, speak as if our right to freedom neither birth nor race, youth nor age. It 

depended on its possession by our ancestors ! would be the same absurdity to assert that 

In the common cases of morality, we should we have a right to freedom because the 

blush at such an absurdity. No man would Englishmen of Alfred's reign were free, as 

justify murder by its antiquity, or stigma- that three and three are six because they 

tize benevolence for being new. The gen- were so in the camp of Genghis Khan, Let 

ealogist who should emblazon the one as us hear no more of this ignoble and igno- 

coeval with Cain, or stigmatize the other as minious pedigree of freedom ! " — Works^ vol. 

upstart with Howard, would be disclaimed in, p. 135. 
.even by the most frantic partisan of aristoe- 



SURVEY OF COLONIAL EVENTS. 163 

uninterrupted stream of liberty, — to be seen in the enjoyment of equal rights, 
and in the dispensation of impartial justice. As the tendency of all matter 
is downward, attracted by unalterable laws which unite and fanctionize its 
properties, so the tendencj' of the spirit of freedom is upward, outward and 
onward, gradually" releasing th€ soul of man from the weight of its fetters, 
and preparing it for still higher duties, a more exalted happiness. Every 
blow struck b}'' the Democratic Part}" severs a link from that ignoble chain so 
long ago forged by tjTants, and guarded by their successors. 

As the colonies sprang up at different periods, and are to be traced to dif- 
ferent and opposite causes ; as they pursued each a separate course before 
they were united or independent, and as the}" all submitted, more or less, to 
the control of Great Britain, it is quite obvious that history can disclose but 
little unity in party movements, where no issues were made on national 
topics as such, — no policy declared in which all could have an interest, or 
upon which all could have a right to exert an influence. But, as the colo- 
nists had some motives in common, as emigrants from the same countr}^, a 
similarity of spirit will be found to have influenced them when called upon 
to act under similar circumstances, and in view of like interests. 

In England, the Democrats were opposed and almost paralj^zed by a 
powerful part}". In removing to America, they were freed from that 
atmosphere of oppression which had surrounded them. There, they had 
endeavored to live in the full enjoj^ment of institutions which belonged to 
them in common with all British subjects. Here, they began with purposes 
which, though they were not defined with distinct particularity in their own 
minds, 3'et evinced an evident and determined disposition to favor republican 
principles, and to organize a Democratic part}". In tracing such a result to 
its original sources, it will be proper to notice the acts and discussions which 
gradually gained concessions from the crown, and nationalized the colonists. 
That the colonists had distinct motives in respect to their natural rights, and 
to the formation of a government in harmony with their view"S, and such as 
W"ould efficiently advance and protect them, is unquestionably true. Not 
that ministers had motives to such an end, — for, although it may be admitted 
that they were occasionally influenced by a benevolence of feeling, and made 
concessions w^hich they deemed merely parental, there is no evidence that 
they favored republican tendencies, or the interests of America, beyond the 
narrow limits of the crown. If England were just, it was expected that 
America would be generous ; if England were liberal, what could America do 
less than to be magnanimous ? 

The events and circumstances which immediately favored the Puritans 
have been considered. These were for a thue of a limited nature, connected 
with character, locality and society. They constituted the beginning of a 
new community in a new country. The succeeding process was the formation 
of colonial interests in more extended relations. These were mediately 



164 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

affected b}' events of a national tendencj', and which favored eveiy possible 
variety of exercise and development. 

The great diversity of motive and character of the emigrants ; the various 
and distracted counsels by which the different companies were governed, and 
their detached operations in respect to the sources of power ; the troubles of 
Ireland and Scotland ; the numerous impeachments and contests of Parlia- 
ment ; the tyranny and caprices of royalty ; the revolutions of Cromwell and 
James the Second ; the wars of Great Britain against Spain, Holland and 
France, — the peace of Utrecht ;^ the solemn perturbations of the church and 
state ; " new lights," and new plans of colonial governments ; the eloquence 
and swa}' of master-minds of the seventeenth century, led by the lofty spirit * 
of Chatham, were events and influences which contributed powerfully to 
the increasing ability of the American colonies, and tended to open to the 
vision of the gifted statesman new and extended views of national polity. 

These, and similar events, extending through a long period of time, though 
foreign and external in their origin and direction, were prolific in positions 
of activity, and gave to the colonists opportunities for the exercise of mind 
in reference to public affairs, which were quite important, when considered 
in connection with their condition and future wants. They had a foreign 
polic}' to stud}', without its usual responsibilities. The}^ were observers of 
troubles, foreign to their own, without being the subjects of them. They 
had constant accessions of men of character, thrown off by the convulsions of 
Europe, whose energies added spirit and vigor to the public mind. They 
could look upon revolutions with all the loyalt}^ of subjects, and experience 
the elations of joy incident to success, and not leave their fire-sides, nor 
suffer the painful transitions from realities to the emotions of hope and fear. 
They could look upon the results of wisdom detached from the follies of 
failure, and calml}^ admire the dignit}' of character, exempted from the preju- 
dices which sun'ounded and helped to produce it. 

But this position of a passive nature was not of long duration ; for, when 
the interests^ of the colonies were increased, and attracted the notice and 



^"The treaty of peace concluded at first landed in England, and the custom 
Utrecht," says Bancroft, "was momentous paid;' the Privy Council assigning these re- 
in its character and consequences. It closed markahle reasons : ' That the king, weighing 
the series of universal Avars for the balance the great advantage which this crown and 
of power, and, establishing tlie territorial state might receive from a well-ordered plan- 
relations of the states adjoining Trance on a tation in Virginia, granted several immuni- 
basis which endures even now, left no oppor- ties to the colonies, as not doubting but that 
tunity for future wars, except for commerce they would apply themselves to such courses 
or opinion. " — Vol. iii, p. 226. as might most firmly incorporate that plan- 

2" An order was issued, in October, 1621, tation into his commonwealth ; that to suffer, 

commanding ' that no tobacco, or other pro- therefore, a foreign trade, is as inconsistent 

ductions of the colonies, shall thenceforth with the view in the planting of Virginia as 

be carried into foreign parts till they are with just policy or the honor of the state.' 



FOREIGN CONTROL OF COLONIES. 



.'00 



consideration of the king and council, or the Parliament/ they found them-' 
selves within the circle of national control, and both the subjects and repre- 
sentatives of principle.^ Tlie formation of private and public opinion led to 
formal declarations of motive in respect to the best organization of society ; 
and questions arose in all those minor details which are usually to be seen in 
the affairs of practical life. The exercise of the prerogatives of royalty were 
watched in the wilderness, and the measures of Parliament were discussed in 
the rude domicile of the farmer and mechanic.^ Toleration was condemned 
hy rival bigots, and Episcopacy was discovered and proscribed in its scattered 



The deputy and council, offering some rea- 
sons to show the impropriety and hardship 
of this order, were told, in the stern lan- 
guage of those days, ' that they were not to 
dispute, but to obey.' Here, then, were, 
for the first time, disclosed all those princi- 
ples of policy, with regard to the colonial 
trade, which Avere carried into execution, by 
an act of the legislature, at a subsequent 
day." — Chalmers' Annals, p. 53. 

1 The king invested the general superin- 
tendence of the colonies in a council, in 
England, " composed of a few persons of 
consideration and talents." — Chalmers, p. 
15. 

2 The King of England, "informed of great 
distraction and disorder in the plantations 
of New England," referred the subject to the 
consideration of his Privy Council. This 
was in 1632. The council, after examina- 
tion, passed a resolution, that the appear- 
ances were so fair, and hopes so great, that 
the country would prove beneficial to the 
kingdom, and profitable to the settlers, as 
that the adventurers " had cause to go on 
cheerfully with their undertakings," with an 
assurance that, if tilings were conducted 
according to the design of the patent, his 
Majesty would not only maintain the liber- 
ties and privileges heretofore granted, but 
supply anything further which might tend 
to the good government, prosperity and 
comfort, of his people in those plantations. 
— Holmes' Annals, vol. i, p. 213. 

In 1634, an Order in Council was passed, 
at London, requiring ]Mr. Cradock, a chief 
adventurer, then present before the board, 
"to cause the letters patents for New Eng- 
land to be brought to the board." A special 



commission was given to the Archbishop of 
Canterbury and eleven other persons, for 
governing the American colonies. An order 
was also sent, by the king's commissioners, 
to the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, 
and other haven towns, to stop the promis- 
cuous and disorderly departure out of the 
realm to America. 

Under date of July, 1634, Governor Win- 
throp writes in his journal (137), "Mr. 
Cradock wrote to the governor and his 
assistants, and sent a copy of the councils, 
whereby we were required to send over our 
patent. Upon long consultation whether 
we should return answer or not, we agreed, 
and returned answer to Mr. Cradock, excus- 
ing that it could not be done but by a 
General Court, which was to be holden in 
September next." 

January 19, 1635, the colony of Massa* 
chusetts prepared to counteract this order. 
The ministers, considered at the time as the 
fathers of the commonwealth, were con- 
sulted by the magistrates. At the request 
of the governor and assistants, all the min- 
isters in the colony, excepting one, met at 
Boston, to consider two cases, one of which 
was, What we ought to do, if a general 
governor should be sent out of England? 
They unanimously agreed that, if such a 
governor were sent, the colony ought not to 
accept him, but to defend its lawful posses- 
sions, if able; "otherwise, to avoid or pro- 
tract." 

3 In the contest between the King and 
Parliament, in 1644, the colonies of New 
England took an early and sincere part on 
the side of Parliament. In 1644, the Gen- 
eral Court passed an ordinance declaring 



166 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



adherents. TUlcr, were weighed, and nobility measured.^ The earth wa< 
studied in regard to its probable uses, and lands were divided by theories 
representing the selfish, the benevolent, the speculative, the just and the unjust. 
The rivers and the seas were surveyed in reference to the fishermen of all 
nations, and the forests allotted to the furrier-huntsmen. The delicate subject 
of taxation was scanned in ever}' variety of form natural to a hard-working 
people, jealous of their rights. Man looked upon man as his equal, and began 
to question the truth of the fearful assumption that petitions may be made 
to God, but not to Parliament. The right of petition was discussed and 
conceded. Men were counted as beings capable of speaking for themselves : 
and the representative principle became the subject of study and applica- 
tion.^ Martial law was pronounced of doubtful tendency ,3 and the civil 
power was tested with a nice discrimination in respect to the extent of man's 
prevcrsit}', as compared with his love of right. The arm}', as a permanent 
establishment, was viewed with fearful distrust,^ and the militia S3'stem 



"that what person soever shall, by word, 
writing or action, endeavor to disturb our 
peace, directly or indirectly, by drawing a 
party under pretence that he is for the 
King of England, and such as join with him 
against the Parliament, shall be accounted 
as an offender of a high nature against this 
commonwealth, and to be proceeded with, 
eitlier capitally or otherwise, according to 
the quality and degree of his offence ; pro- 
A'ided always that this shall not be extended 
against any merchant, strangers and ship- 
men, that come hither merely for trade or 
merchandise, albeit they should come from 
any of those parts that are in the hands of 
the king, and such as adhere to him against 
the Parliament; carrying themselves here 
quietly, and free, from railing, or nourishing 
any faction, mutiny or sedition, among us, 
as aforesaid." — Marshall, p. 117. 

1 In 1G3G, " several of the English peers," 
says Bancroft, " especially Lord Say and 
Seal, — a Presbyterian, a friend to the Puri- 
tans, yet with but dim percejjtions of the 
true nature of civil liberty, — and Lord 
Brooke, — a man of charity and meekness, 
an early friend to tolerance, — had begun to 
inquire into the character of the rising in- 
stitutions, and to negotiate for such changes 
as would offer them inducements for remov- 
ing to America. They demanded a division 
of the General Court into two branches, 



that of assistants and of representatives, — 
a change which was acceptable to the 
people, and which, from domestic reasons, 
was ultimately adopted; but they further 
required an acknowledgement of their own 
heriditary right to a seat in the upper house. 
The fathers of Massachusetts were disposed 
to conciliate these powerful friends. They 
promised them the honors of magistracy : 
but, as for the establishment of hereditary 
dignity, they answered, by the hand of 
Cotton, 'Where God blesseth any branch 
of any noble or generous family with a 
spirit and gifts fit for government, it would 
be a taking of God's name in vain to put 
such a talent under a bushel, and a sin 
against the honor of magistracy to neglect 
such in our public elections. But if God 
should not delight to furnish some of their 
posterity with gifts fit for magistracy, we 
should expose them rather to reproach and 
prejudice, and the commonwealth with thenij 
than exalt them to honor, if we should call 
them forth, when God doth not, to public 
authority.' And thus the proposition for 
establishing hereditary nobility was defeat- 
ed."— Vol. I, p. 384. 

2 The first representative assembly in 
America was in Virginia, in 1619. The 
second was in Massachusetts in 1634. 

3 Reference is made to Virginia. 

4 The danger and impolicy of a standing 



QUESTIONS OF INTEREST AND OF RIGHTS. 137 

excited the jealous to suspect a foreign policy of promotion ; and Amoricnn 
officers felt that a colonel upon the continent was as good as a colonel 
beyond the Atlantic.^ Monopolies were formed, based upon every interest 
that promised any reward ; and questions of experiment racked the ingenious, 
and deluded both the credulous and incredulous. Inter-colonial interests 
indicated division-lines of separate communities, and questions of regulation 
were topics of discussion in the different colonies, as balance of power became 
the absorbing problem of the nations of Europe. 

Thus questions for consideration arose with every advance of interest in the 
colonies ; and, while every increase of property gave additional importance to 
the particular colony where it was improved, it developed a corresponding 
spirit and judgment in the people concerning its control. To individual 
interest was added the conventional ambition engendered by the rivahy of 
separate colonies ; and colonies began to define their relations of right as 
neighboring communities, and their positions of power as national sover- 
eignties. General interests of the continent were early viewed as subjects 
in common to be adjusted, and union for cooperation was a form of action as 
natural as it proved to be efficient. The government of the mother country, 
looking upon colonial enterprise as national gain, and colonial power as an 
increase of national strength, sought to regulate the one, and to control the 
other, by orders in council, or by legislation. Paternal grants gave way to 
royal suspicion, and parliamentary encouragement to parliamentary restric- 
tions. 

In these various relations the colonies were placed, — each having its party 
divisions peculiar to its own condition, and all having a common interest in 
the subject of foreign control, upon which the people divided in respect to 
continental polic3\ 

It has been seen that, at the time of the Revolution, most of the colonies 
were 'governed as royal provinces. Eight of the thirteen were of this class. 
Two only remained of the proprietary form, while three had continued under 
charters. 

It is doubtful whether history affords more instructive examples to illus- 
trate the various forms of development of Democratic principles than may be 
found in the settlement and progress of the American colonies. 



army was early declared, in the debates of trouble in America. New clauses introduced 

Parhament, by the Democracy of England, into tlie annual Mutiny Act subjected the col- 

1 " In anticipation of approaching hostili- onial soldiers, when acting in conjunction 

ties," (with the French, 1755) says Hildreth, with regular troops, to the rigid rules of the 

" a general order gave to all officers com- regular service, and required the Colonial 

missioned by the king or the commander- Assemblies to provide quarters and certain 

in-chief precedence over such as had only enumerated supplies for the regular troops 

colonial commissions, — an order which ere- within their jurisdictions." — Vol. ii, p. 448. 
ated great disgust, and occasioned much 



168 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



THE SOURCES OF CIVIL POWER. 

All the sources of civil power are opened for inspection ; the various 
motives which lead to party organization are made apparent ; and moral 
and political seasons of seed-time and harvest are passed in review, discov- 
ering the true principles of action, — the unalterable conditions of truth. 

It may be said, for purposes of historical convenience, that power springs 
from three sources. The first and highest is conscience, around which are 
to be found, as servants, all the sentiments and faculties of the human mind ; 
the second is property, or the possession of means to control the agency of 
others ; and the third is of a conventional nature, and rests upon traditionary 
privileges, — such as inhere in the idea of royalty .^ It is with the possession 
of moral or traditionary power as it is with the possession of property, — it is 
prized to the extent of its ability to control ; and, as traditionary power 
precedes conventional agreement, propert}^ is often made subservient to ro}'- 
sdty. Sometimes royalty bends its neck to be loaded with a golden 3'oke, 
and the two powers unite both as rivals and allies. 

As but few men can be rich and independent of labor, it follows that 
most men are comparatively^ poor, and subject to the primeval conditions 
(imposed upon Adam. As but few men can be rulers, or the dictators of 



1 M. Guizot indulges in some ingenious 
speculations with respect to the nature of 
royalty. He says : " Whenever society 
advances towards its modern and definitive 
character, royalty seems to extend and 
prosper ; so that when the work is consum- 
mated, — when there is no longer any, or 
scarcely any other important or decisive 
influence in the great states of Europe than 
that of the government and the public, — 
royalty is the government." — Hist. Civ. of 
Europe, Vol. i, p. 162. He says, too, " It 
is evident that royalty has played a prodig- 
ious part in the history of European civiliza- 
tion," &c. One would suppose that Guizot 
referred to a principle which could be 
defined with some distinctness. Not so. 
For he enumerates several different kinds of 
royalty, and the reader is at a loss to gather 
an exact idea of his meaning. The fact 
that a man is made king, or emperor, shows 
sijnply that he is chief ruler, either by con- 
sent, or by the aid of force ; but it does not 
explain upon what principle, or upon what 
conditions, he has been made so. The same 
may be said of the president of a republic. 



The distinction between a hereditary and an 
elective chief magistrate does not relieve the 
difficulty ; it only speaks of a fact that pre- 
cedes the result, and the result remains 
still to be explained. Royalty simply refers 
to a form of government, without any refer- 
ence to the principles upon which it is 
based, or to the limits of their exercise. If 
hereditary, it may be termed an idea of 
necessity, incident to a state of ignorance, 
or to an imperfect state of society, where 
judgment is content with traditionary au- 
thority. If elective, the result is either a 
free republic, — this form best representing 
the voice of the people, — or a monarchy, 
or an empire, with the promise of a consti- 
tutional government which concedes free- 
dom to the subject, and thus secures his 
vote. When the people know enough, and 
society is properly organized in reference to 
the representative principle, royalty can 
have no existence. Hence its existence is 
merely incidental, — a result, it may be, of 
the exercise of sound principles, or the 
result of the entire want of principle. 



SOURCES OF CIVIL POWER. 169 

societ}', it follows that most men stand in the relations of subject or citizen. 
As the dispensers of royalty and property are naturally inclined and impelled 
to be selfish and conservative, their systems of operation are found to be 
generally' narrow and partial, — their concessions of right, slight and reluctant. 
In relation to these two classes, either singly or combined, the people are 
placed, as subjects, constituents, or debtors. That the people, w^ho embody 
and develop the great principle of Democracy, constitute the real sovereignty 
of a state, may be regarded quite obvious, from the fact that, without them, 
ro3^alty is but a name, and property a solecism. To speak of a king without 
subjects, of a Croesus without a market, or of a market without a people, 
would be to ridicule the objects of language ; and yet these terms indicate 
the great sources of power. Without industr}", and the wants of men, wealth 
is nothing. Without the institutions of government to regulate the rights of 
men, ro^Tilty is nothiug. With Democratic institutions, man is every- 
thing, and nominal distinctions yield to the dignity of character. Iloyalt}^ 
existing as the absolute disposer of human rights, is a tjTann}-. Wealth con- 
centrated in the hands of the few, is a monopol}'. If these conditions concur 
and unite in the same nation, the people are liable to be made both slaves 
and beggars. The transition of power from these uncertain sources, con- 
trolled b}- the few, and its diffusion among the people, — the rightful heirs, 
— is human progress. This is accomplished b}^ Democracy, which con- 
tinually claims a greater freedom, a more permanent industr}', a wider range 
for commerce. It is the spirit of the people, asserting their wants, their 
interests, their rights and their privileges. 

That the fluctuations of party must be continual and various, will appear 
when we consider the relative condition of these sources of power, to which 
allusion has already been made. Under a monarchical government there are 
usually three parties of interest : the king and nobilit}', and all those who 
are satisfied to be their mere dependents ; the rich, who control the available 
wealth of the country' ; and the people, of all professions, who have a com- 
mendable ambition to acquire the comforts of life, and to enjoy equal oppor- 
tunities for advancement. 

As royalt}^ combines with the representatives of propertj^, or of principle, 
so parties are formed for good, for pecuniary profit or monopoly'. Some- 
times the love of duty and the love of money unite in the same persons. Id 
a constitutional government, like that of England, the conventional power is 
again divided and subdivided, combined and modified, in an infinite variety 
of wa^^s. The King, the Lords, and the Parliament, have their struggles 
for prerogative, their conditions of strength and weakness, and their forced 
coalition necessities. 

When the king and the titled gentr}'' suppose that the power of wealth 
will be equal to their wants, thej' seek alliance with the holders of property 
against the people. In such cases there are exchanges of property for power 



170 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

• 
and privilege hj agTeement. When they see the sources of revenue in the 

inclustr}' and enterprise of the people, and discover the great truth that 
freedom from restraint in the legitimate pursuits of life adds to the public 
revenue, then ro3^alty takes the laborer by the hand, and unites with the con- 
stituted agents of the people in justly regulating popular rights. Industry 
3'ields more, and money less. The rich sometimes worship at the shrine of 
popular will, when mind fails to honor the holder of gold, or when the integ- 
rity of all public men is doubted because a few men know themselves to be 
dishonest. 

To all these som'ces of power, with their numerous combinations, may be 
traced the different governments of the American colonies, and the varjing 
policy of the English monarchs and Parliaments in regard to them, during 
their entire period of settlement. 

While the first successful settlements were made b}" the lovers of freedom 
for freedom's sake, most of the colonies originated in motives of gain or of 
speculation. It is an interesting fact, that, however men combine to secure 
a common end, provided that end be one of general interest, and of vital 
importance to societj^, they arrive, by degrees, at the same points of truth, 
though by different means, more or less rapidly, and from different positions. 
There seems to be — to borrow a term of ph^^sical science — a moral centre 
of gravitj', where all truth tends, however and wherever it is first promul- 
gated. The light of truth shines upon all impartiall}^, like that of the polar 
star, which as safely guides the Feejee Islander in his canoe as the admiral 
of the royal navy in the broad Atlantic. 

Political parties of the colonies were associations of men formed for specific 
purposes, and directed by the same dispositions of ambition, honor and interest, 
which actuate men at the present daj.^ Then, although the sources of power 
were the same, there was no permanent unity of purpose in party movements, 
or government polic}', such as exists in nations. If people were cheered by 
successful results to-day, to-morrow might teem with the events of adversity, 
be^'ond the power of a prudential foresight to remed3\ Subject to uncertain 
changes of princes, governors, proprietors and Parliaments, they could not well 
take part in the political divisions of England without opposing or neglecting 
the interests of the colonies ; and to organize parties in America seemed like 
dislo3-alty to the British government. Still, with all these eccentricities in 
the orbits of political rule, Democracy held but one language, claimed but 
one condition, and served but one master. " God and Liberty " was inscribed 
upon its banner, and sanctified in the hearts of the people. The compact of 



i The question of obedience w^as a ques- divide Massachusetts till the establishment 

tion of liberty, and gave birth to the parties of actual independence. — Bancroft, Vol. 

of prerogative and of freedom. Such is ii, p. 75. The Democratic and Tory par- 

tlie origin of the parties which continued to ties. 



FIRST SETTLEMENT OF VIRGINIA. 171 

the Pilgrims became the political creed of the continent, and the Democratic 
Party was organized for its defence. To this was opposed a conservative 
party, combining the spirit of royalty with the cupidity of wealth. From 
this remark it is not to be inferred tliat the Democratic party was free from 
the perversities of hmnan nature, or that it was favored by a total exemption 
from error. Nor is it to be inferred that royalty was without its benevo- 
lence, or government without its justice, or wealth without its munificence. 
No. These sources of power existed then as now, and alwa3's will continue 
to exist, in the providence of God, for the good of man. Reference is made 
to their nature, to their general tendencies, and to the surest means to direct 
and control them. The Democratic party sought constantly- to lessen the 
power of the few, to be extended to the man}'. Colonial governments, based 
upon monied power, proved a failure. Proprietary governments suiTcndered 
to the crown, and demonstrated that schemes of interest succeed only as 
schemes of interest ; that the private ends of particular persons, or companies, 
seldom harmonize to meet the public wants, or to promote the public good. 
To say the least, royalt}" was allied to a national sj'stem, and the colonies 
could be better protected as the parts of a nation than as mere corporations, 
— more bent upon increasing the means of a company- than capacitated to 
advance the prosperity of a people. 

But, to illustrate principles which have been stated in general terms, it 
may be well to glance at the origin of each particular colony, so that the 
colonies ma}' be studied in classes, as they stood at the time of the Ilevolu- 
tion, and in view of a common standard. To commence with the royal 
provinces, the first to be noticed is Virginia. 

VIRGINIA.i 

The first settlers of this colony were adventurers, — a compan}' of men 
influenced by various and opposite motives, and subjected to conditions of a 



1 The first permanent settlement made in the thirty-fourth and forty-first degrees of 
America was Virginia, under a charter north latitude, called the South Colony, and 
granted to Sir Thomas Gates and his asso- the other between the tliirty- eighth and 
ciates, by James the First, in 1606. That forty-fifth degrees of north latitude, called 
charter granted territories, then commonly the North Colony. They were not to settle 
called Virginia, lying on the sea-coast within an hundred miles of one another, 
between the thirty-fourth and forty-fifth By degrees, the name of Virginia was con- 
degrees of north latitude, and the islands fined to the South Colony. The North 
adjacent within one hundred miles, which Colony assumed the name of Plymouth 
were not belonging to or possessed by any Company, from the residence of the orig- 
Christian prince or people. The associates inal grantees ; and New England was 
were divided into two companies, one of founded under their auspices. Each colony 
which was required to settle between had exclusive propriety in all the territory 



172 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



necessitous as well as of a humiliating nature.i Their voyage to this con- 
tinent was one of discord ; and though they viewed the new country with 
admiration, their settlement was made without proper judgment, and became 
the scene of disagreement, suffering and death.^ Whether King James con- 
sidered himself as the father or the husband^ of the colony, it is quite certain 
that he proved himself to be not only the king in abstractor but failed to 
recognize in practice his own theory of a king in concretoA Pacific without 



within fifty miles from the first seat of their 
plantation. A new charter was given to the 
settlers of Virginia in 1609, and a third in 
1612. A representative government was 
established, and the first colonial assembly- 
was convened at Jamestown, June 29, 
1619. A written constitution was granted 
by the London proprietors to the colonists 
in 1621. In 1624 the charter was vacated 
by authority of the king, who took the 
colony into his own hands. A governor 
and council were appointed by the crown, 
but the assemblies continued. On the 
breaking out of Cromwell's war in England, 
the Virginians remained faithful to the king, 
and a fleet was sent by Parliament to subdue 
them. In 1652 the colonists were com- 
pelled to acknowledge the authority of the 
Parliament. On the restoration of Charles 
II. , Virginia became again a royal colony, 
and so remained till the period of the 
American Revolution. 

i"The original planters of that most 
ancient colony are said, by contemporary 
writers, to have been," says Chalmers, 
"poor gentlemen, tradesmen, serving-men, 
libertines, and such like, — ten times more 
fit to spoil a commonwealth than either to 
begin or maintain one." — Political Annals^ 
p. 69. 

The persons named in the charter of Vir- 
ginia (1606) were Sir Thomas Gates, Sir 
George Somers, Richard Hakluyt, and 
Edward Maria Wingfield. For every sum 
of twelve pounds ten shillings the contrib- 
utor was entitled to an hundred acres of 
land, and as much more when the first lot was 
cultivated. The company fitted out three 
vessels, under the command of Christopher 
Newport. In these vessels one hundred 
and five men embarked, destined to form 
the first colony in Virginia. Of this number, 



forty-eight were "gentlemen," twelve labor- 
ers, four carpenters, and a few other 
mechanics. The rest were soldiers and ser- 
vants. In reply to complaints of the com- 
pany (in 1608), Sir Thomas Smith, the 
treasurer, wrote that it were better to send 
out thirty working-men than a thousand 
like the present colonists. — See Hildreth's 
U. S., Vol. i, pp. 99, 108. 

2 The population in 1609 was near five 
hundred persons ; which number, in the 
course of six months, was reduced, by idle- 
ness, vice and famine, to only sixty, of all 
ages and sexes. — See Bancroft, Vol. i, p. 
139, and Chalmers. In 1611 the colony 
numbered seven hundred men. In 1619 
there was an addition to the population of 
the colony of twelve hundred emigrants, 
among whom were ninety young women, 
who were disposed of, for the cost of their 
passage, as wives to the planters. 

3 King James I., in his speech to his first 
Parliament (1603), speaking of the union 
of the different kingdoms of Great Britain, 
said: "What God hath conjoined then let 
no man separate. I am the husband, and 
the whole island is my lawful wife ; I am 
the head, and it is my body : I am the shep- 
herd, and it is my flock : I hope, therefore, 
no man will be so unreasonable as to think 
that I, that am a Christian king under the 
gospel, should be a polygamist, and husband 
to two wives : that I, being the head, should 
have a divided and monstrous body; or 
that, being the shepherd of so fair a flock 
(whose fold hath no wall to fence it but the 
four seas), should have my flock parted in 
two."— Pari. Deb., Vol. i, p. 977. 

4 "An abstract king," said King James, 
" had all power ; but a concrete king was 
bound to observe the laws of the country 
which he governed." — Works, p. 533. 



CHARACTER OF JAMES I. 173 

a knowledge of national rights ; indulging in a monarch's pride, without a 
corresponding sense of a monarch's dignity ; obstinate, without the capacit3' 
of an intelligent firmness ; — this roj^al law-giver, in his self-complacenc}', 
extended his paternal verbosity to the American continent. The emigrants 
left their native shores without a knowledge of the instructions by which 
their interests were to be regulated, and without a knowledge of the govern- 
ors to whom these instructions had been committed.^ His majest}- placed 
his will under seal, to be made known onty in the wilderness. Thus com- 
menced '' the most ancient administration of Virginia," a " pure aristocrac}'." 

With such a master, no one need be in much doubt as to the probable 
character of the agents of his choice to execute his will. The onlj- hope to 
be countenanced, in such a case, would be, that the king might occasionally 
mistake his man, and thus by accident serve his people. With such a begin- 
ning, it was obvious that success could only commence with failure.^ Re- 
strained b}' the paralyzing rule of martial law, and distracted b}' seditions 
incident to such a rule ; subjected to arbitrary and frequent changes, to the 
attacks of savages, and severed from ties and influences of a domestic nature, 
— the colonists experienced all the desolations of terror, famine and want. But 
with the increase of numbers,^ and by the accession of character and resulting 
causes, the colony recovered in some degree from the shocks of misfortune, 
and became impatient to enjo}^ once more the freedom of their native countr}'. 
To meet this feeling, the governor. Sir George Yeardley, in 1619, called a 
General Assembl}^, composed of representatives from the different plantations 
of the colon}^, and permitted them to assume and exercise the high functions 
of legislation. This was the first legislative assembl}' in America. 

But the want of success in enterprise lessened the spirit of concentration, 
and the colonists became divided on questions of political control. Unsuc- 



1 These instructions, and the names of the Virginian story exactly corresponds, 

those persons who were to compose the The emigrants were too often in want of 

future government of Virginia, were sealed food, and all the energy of martial law 

up in a tin box. It was ordered that this box became necessary to promote diligence and 

should not be opened until after their preserve peace. There appear to have 

arrival. been, moreover, two capital defects in the 

'^ During five years next after their land- institution of the settlement. First, the 

ing, the colonists were ordered to trade colonists had neither women nor property — 

jointly ; that the fruits of the general Indus- the two objects which the hearts of men 

try should be placed in a public magazine, desire the most : women to smooth the 

whence every one should be supplied agree- asperities of life, and property to interest 

ably to the directions of the Council. But and invigorate. — Chalmers, p. 33. 

when men are not to profit they will labor 3 From 1629 to 1640, some of the Puri- 

little ; and when all are fed from a common tans from Plymouth and Massachusetts 

granary, few will concern themselves how emigrated to Virginia. 
t is filled ;--and with tliis reasoning 



174 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

cossfiil corporations ever disagree in regard to the true causes of failure, — 
and struggles for ascendenc}^ are directed by professed determinations to 
arrive at success, either b}' a continuance of a policy alread}^ begun, or b}' 
the adoption of new and different measures as remedies for the evils of the 
past. The conservative party favored the prerogatives of the crown, as the 
chief source of power ; while the people, looking to their own good, and the 
growth of the colony, as the chief objects of their associated endeavors and 
interests, favored industr}^ in its legitimate relations, and property in its right- 
ful hands. ^ As the decrees of the Privy Council in respect to Virginia were 
opposed b}^ the Democrats in Parliament, it was natural that the colonists 
should take positions according to their judgment, their prejudices, or inter- 
ests. Public meetings for business^ afforded opportunities for exchanges of 
opinion, and the aff'airs of the colony were discussed with the utmost free- 
dom. Such a freedom gave energ}^ to the people, and added to the spirit of 
enterprise. But the part}' that relies upon management, and upon the exer- 
cise of arbitrar}^ power, for its advancement, is never to be satisfied by the 
evidences of prosperitj-. To witness their reality, excites its grasping dispo- 
sition to control results ; to realize their absence, is to arouse its spirit of 
arrogance in assumptions of wisdom that concede nothing to the wisdom of 
others. The roj^alists cared for nothing but for place, and for selfish oppor- 
tunities of gain. They influenced the king by exciting his jealous}^, and 
insured his active cooperation by admissions which were gratifj'ing to his 
vanit3\ He was induced to interfere with their elections, in the belief that 
his commands would be regarded as laws ; to appoint commissioners to inves- 
tigate causes of alleged grievances, which had been fabricated by reckless 
partisans ; — in fact, without descending to fictitious details, he was made to 
believe that the dignitj^ of the crown could only be secured by taking away 
rights which had been conceded, and by recovering a control which had been 
surrendered. 



1(1624). "The governor shall not lay Privy Council on subjects connected with 

any taxes or impositions upon the colony, the rights of Virginia. The unsuccessful 

their lands or commodities, other way than party in the company naturally found an 

by the authority of the General Assembly, ally in the king,— it could hope for success 

to be levyed and ymployed as the said only by establisliing the supremacy of his 

Assembly shall appoynt." — See Bancroft^ prerogative; and the monarch, dissatisfied 

Vol. I, p. 190. at having intrusted to others the control of 

2 "The meetings of the company," says the colony, now desired to recover the in- 

Bancroft, "which now consisted of a fluence of which he was deprived by a 

thousand adventurers (1623), of whom a charter of his own concession. Besides, he 

hundred or more usually appeared at the disliked the freedom of debate." "The 

quarter courts, were the scenes for freedom Virginia courts," said Gondemar, the Span- 

of debate, where the patriots, M^ho in Par- ish envoy, to King James, " are but a serain- 

liament advocated the cause of liberty, tri- ary to a seditious Parliament." —Vol. i, 

umphantly opjjosed the decrees of the p. 186. 



EARLY PARTIES IN VIRGINIA, 



175 



The royal assumptions of power were opposed with a becoming spirit of 
indignation by the people ; but the}' had no abilit}' to succeed in such a con- 
test, and the compcni}' was dissolved. Virginia ceased to be a proprietary 
government.^ Although but little can be learned from the many events 
which transpired during so short a period, still, enough was seen to satisfy 
the honest that freedom was a condition of success. " The spirit of liberty 
had planted itself deeply among the Virginians ; "^ and if they were not per- 
mitted even to favor its outward expansion, no earthly power could deprive 
them_ of its inward workings, and the consequent enlargements of mind. 

To understand the political character of the colon}', it is necessary to study 
the sources of its power, the character of its society, and the nature of its indus- 
try. It was viewed by the people and government of England as a plantation 
for raising tobacco.^ It was favored by government for the revenue which it 
yielded ; and all measures of control, proposed by the king or by the Parlia- 
ment, were based upon pecuniary motives — either to increase the means of 
the crown, or to favor court favorites who were ready to cross the Atlantic 
for purposes of speculation. The indastry of the people being confined to 
a single staple, and that staple being made the currency of the country, and 
subject to the control of factors who stood in the double relation of buyers 
and sellers, the colonists were reduced to a narrow scale of enterprise. 
They were neither permitted to originate nor continue any course of means 
necessary to the formation of society or to the establishment of a self-pro- 



1 The colonial government was modelled 
after that of the mother country ; the gov- 
ernor, council and burgesses, of Virginia 
corresponding, in their respective functions, 
to the king, lords and commons, of Eng- 
land. There were, however, the folio wmg 
diversities : during the first year of the 
colony, when it was under the government 
of the Yirginia Company, the governor, 
council and burgesses, sat together in the 
same room, and formed a single body, 
cahed "The Grand Assembly." The same 
thing afterwards took place during the 
greater part of the time of the Common- 
wealth. The governor and council, too, in 
their judicial character, exercised original 
as well as appellate jurisdiction ; and ap- 
peals from their decision lay to the General 
Assembly. These appeals were abolished 
in 1683, by an exercise of the royal prerog- 
ative ; but the judicial functions of the 
governor and council, constituting the 
General Court, continued throughout the 



regal government. The number of coun- 
cillors was limited to sixteen, though their 
places were seldom all filled ; and they were 
selected by the crown from those of the 
inhabitants who were recommended by their 
wealth, station and loyalty. The House ol 
Burgesses, in the year 1743, consisted of 
eighty members, to wit : seventy-six from 
thirty-eight counties, tliree from the towns 
of Williamsburgh, Jamestown, and Xorfolk, 
and one from William and Mary College. — 
Tucker's Jefferson^ Yol. i, p. 19. 

2 Bancroft's U. S., Vol. i, p. 90. 

3 "The use of tobacco had been intro- 
duced into England by some of the first 
adventurers to America, twenty years 
before the settlement of Jamestown. The 
use of it rapidly extended in England, and 
the more rapidly, perhaps, from the endeav- 
ors made by the reigning monarch to prej- 
udice his subjects against it. A demand 
for tobacco being thus created, and it being 
already a product of Yirginia, the settlers 



176 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



tecting prospcrit}'. As government agents, the officers of the crown were 
but little more than directors of a corporation, directing their enero-ies to 
promote a single object. Thej' were rather speculators than citizens, rather 
servants than laborers. The colony was subjected not only to all the with- 
ering influences of a partial employment of the human faculties, but it was 
sustained by no community foreign to itself. Its activity was confined to a 
circle whose enlargement produced no change, and whose utmost extent 
reached no variety of motive, and promised no additional reward. Indeed, 
its increase of enterprise was more like that of machinery than of mind ; and 
while many inhabitants were added for labor, but few were added for character. 
The more wealthy portion of the inhabitants who had the means to com- 
mand the refinements and influences of education, and of society, became 
distinguished for their lofty spirit of personal independence, and unbounded 
hospitality.^ 



soon began to cultivate it for market ; and, 
under the encouragement of the very high 
price it then bore, it so engrossed their 
attention to the neglect of their corn, that 
they sometimes suffered severely from 
scarcity. It long continued almost the sole 
article of export ; and, both from its fur- 
nishing the means of remittance to Eng- 
land, and from the inadequate supply of the 
precious metals, which they felt in common 
with all young and growing communities, it 
became the general measure of value, and 
principal currency of the colony. The 
members of Assembly, the ministers of the 
established church, the clerks of courts, and 
sheriffs, were all paid in tobacco. The pay- 
ment of the county and parish levies, and 
most of the public taxes, was made in the 
Fame commodity. But, as it fluctuated in 
prico, rates were sometimes fixed by the 
colonial legislature, and sometimes left to 
the discretion of the county courts, by 
which the prices of pork, maize, wheat, and 
other articles of general consumption, might 
be paid ill tliic local currency. The quan- 
tity of exported tobacco gradually increased 
with the growth of the colony, until in 
1758 it reached seventy thousand hogs- 
heads,* equal to seventy millions of pounds, 
since 'a'hich time the product has some- 
what diminished." 



In speaking of Charles I. in connection 
with the colony of Virginia, Bancroft says., 
(' Virginia was esteemed by the monarch, as 
a country producing tobacco ; its inhabitants 
were valued at court as planters, and prized 
according to the revenue derived from the 
staple of their industry." — Hist. U. S.y 
Vol. I, p. 194. 

1 "Whereas many ships, laden with 
tobacco and other merchandises, have 
thence carried the same directly to foreign 
countries, whereby his majesty loseth the 
duties thereupon due, there being nothing 
answered in Virginia, you shall be very 
careful that no vessel depart thence loaded 
with those commodities, before bond, with 
sufficient sureties, be taken to his majesty's 
use, to bring the same into his majesty's 
dominions, and to carry a lading from 
thence, that the staple of those commodities 
may be made here ; whereby his majesty, 
after so great an expense to that planta- 
tion, and so many of his subjects trans- 
ported thither may not be defrauded of 
what is justly due for customs on the goods. 
The bonds to be transmitted, that delin- 
quents may be proceeded against." Uz- 
tract from Instructions to Sir Wm. Berk- 
ley: Chalmers, p. 131. 

55 " The inhabitants are very courteous to 
travellers, who need no other recommend- 



*The hogshead, which has been a very varying quantity, from three hundred and fifty pounds to fifteen 
hundred pounds or more, then averaged one thousiind pouuda. 



WANT OF ENTERPRISE. 



177 



In a country where all the products of a beneficent God were springing 
forth in their luxuriant beauty and abundance ; where nature favored the 
diversity of motive, action, industry and genius ; where life seemed preg- 
nant with causes to develop character, to establish the solid foundations 
and to cultivate the refinements of society, — from the rising to the setting 
of the sun, for many generations, the Virginians could look upon little 
except their gloomj^ tobacco fields, and think upon little except their foreign 
tobacco market.^ Enterprise had no heart, happiness no sentiment, and 
character was made subservient to government. Home was divested of its 
atmosphere, and countrj^ of its responsible exercises. Population sought 
shelter as the woodman seeks his temporary hut in the receding forest ; the 
soil was planted and abandoned, as if made for desolation ; and society 
moved in fragments upon the face of the earth, planting and raising a soli- 
tary weed, — ^as if man were created for abuse, and nations had been ap- 
pointed executors to such an end.^ So entirely engrossed were the people of 



ation than the being human creatures. A 
stranger has no more to do, but to inquire 
upon the road where any gentlemen or 
good housekeeper lives, and there he may 
depend upon being received with hospital- 
ity. This good-nature is so general among 
their people, that the gentry when they go 
abroad, order their principal servant to 
entertain all visitors with everything the 
plantation affords. And the poor planters, 
who have but one bed, will very often sit 
up, or lie upon a form or couch all night, to 
make room for a weary traveller to repose 
himself after his journey." — History and 
Present State of yirginia (1705), p. 76. 

1 In a Avork entitled "The History and 
Present State of Virginia, &c.," by "A 
Xative Inhabitant of the Place," published 
m London, 1705, the reader will find a 
variety of facts in respect to the produc- 
tiveness of the country, and the great want 
of enterprise. He says, "All sorts of 
English grain thrive and increase there, and 
yet they don't make a trade of any of them ; " 
and thinks, "if it should please God to 
send them an unseasonable year, there 
would not be found in the country provision 
sufficient to support the people for three 
months extraordinary." * * "The sheep 
increase well and bear good fleeces; but 
they generally are suffered to be torn off 
their backs by briers and bushes, instead of, 
12 



being shorn, or else are left rotting upon 
the dung-hill with their skins." Beeves 
might be raised "to great perfection," " but 
there is not an hundred acres of marsh 
drained throughout the whole country." 
" Hogs swarm like vermin, and are often 
counted as such, insomuch that when an 
inventory of any considerable man's estate 
is taken by the executors, the hogs are left 
out." After speaking of many other prod- 
ucts neglected, and by official discourage- 
ments, he adds : 

" Thus they depend altogether upon the 
liberality of nature, without endeavoring to 
improve its gifts by art or industry. They 
sponge upon the blessings of a warm sun 
and a fruitful soil, and almost grutch the 
pains of gathering in the bounties of the 
earth. I should be ashamed to publish this 
slothful indolence of my countryman, but 
that I hope it will rouse them out of their 
lethargy, and excite them to make the most 
of all those happy advantages which nature 
has given them ; and if it does this, I. am 
sure they will have the goodness to forgive 
me." 

2 As this plant requires land of the 
greatest fertility, and its finer sorts are 
produced only in virgin soil, which it soom 
exhausts, its culture has been steadily ad- 
vancing westwardly, where fresh land is 
more abundant,, leavinig: the eastern. region* 



178 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Virginia in a single occupation, that the}^ failed to make a distinction 
between the desolations of famine and the superabundance of the harvest. 
A large crop was fatal to the price, and a small crop encouraged idle- 
ness.^ The}^ could neither eat nor wear tobacco. With tobacco they 
could neither build a house, nor replenish a pantr}-, grade a road, nor build 
a bridge. Exchange was a necessity. The foreign market was the direc- 
tor of their enterprise, the measure of their means, and the dispenser of 
their gains. Virginia was the plantation, — England the home and the 
storehouse of the planter. The inhabitants of the colony were not ex- 
pected even to clothe themselves,^ or to provide the ordinarj^ comforts of 
life, except by aid of the mechanics and manufacturers of England ; and 
all trade with foreigners was strictl}^ forbidden. Under such circumstances, 
what could be expected either for man or for society ? Where men scat- 
tered over a large extent of territorj^ with entire reference to their peculiar 
business, there could be but few subdivisions of societj^, such as give birth 
to towns ; and where a people transferred all the results of their labors to a 
foreign land, motives to establish institutions for progress could exist only 
in a very slight degree. Religion became a subject of conformity for con- 
A^enience, and popular education was looked upon as a delusion. 

The reign of Charles I. and the administration of Cromwell were marked 
by so many events of a distracting nature, that but little time or attention 
could be given to the colonies in a foreign land. So far as the colonies 
were connected with revenue, they were attentivel}^ considered ; further than 
this, but little was done to add to their m^eans or to encourage their 
spirit.^ Occasional letters of instruction were given, and proclamations 
made, — but these evinced rather a business policy than a national S3'stem. 
To this exemption from foreign control Virginia w^as indebted for much of 
that independent spirit which was manifested in after times, and which led 



it has impoverished to the production of countervail the navigation acts ; with regard 

Indian corn, wheat, and other grain. Its to the second, riots were substituted for the 

cultivation has thus generally ceased in the royal proclamation, and mobs collected to 

country below the falls of the great rivers; cut up the fields of the tobacco-plants." — 

and, in its progress to the west, the centre Vol. ii, p. 248. 

of the tobacco region is now two hundred "^ When the people of Virginia, after the 

miles from the coast." — Tucker's Life of colony had been settled for nearly a cen- 

Jefferson, Vol. i, p. 13. tury, attempted to manufacture coarse 

1 The "low price of tobacco," says Ban- fabrics suitable for clothing, Nicholson, the 

croft (under the period if IGSO), "left the governor, advised that it should be forbid- 

planter without hope. The Assembly had den by an act of Parliament, 
attempted, by legislation, to call tOAvns into 3 Tobacco was heavily taxed in England, 

being, and cherish manufactures. With and, with a view to gain a revenue from the 

little regard to colonial liberties, it-alsopeti- entire consumption, the people of England 

tioned the king to prohibit by proclamation and Wales were forbidden to raise it, and, if 

the planting of tobacco in the colonies for they had any plants growing, to destroy 

one year. The first measure could not them. 



ARISTOCRACY OF VIRGINIA. 179 

to those declarations of freedom which have so distinguished her sons. 
After the Restoration, 1G60, the government of Virginia was more arbitrar}', 
and more consistent!}^ conservative. 

" The political sentiments of the planters," says Tucker,^ " were mani- 
fested very differently in their relations with each other, and in the concerns 
of the whole province with the mother country. Whilst, in the latter rela- 
tion, the}^, with few exceptions, showed themselves zealous assertors of their 
civil rights, in the colon}' itself there was exhibited a strong aristocratical 
spirit, which several circumstances had contributed to produce. The great 
number of indented servants, who for near a century constituted the largest 
portion of their agricultural labor, and who were subjected to a rigor of 
authority not known in England, had always divided the colonists into two 
distinct classes ; and if many of the degraded caste, after their term of ser- 
vice was expired, had, by thrift and good management, acquired land, and 
even wealth, yet their former condition was not forgotten, and it was only in 
the second or third generation that the original line of distinction was effaced. 
The introduction of slaves tended to increase and confirm this inequality. 
The wealthy planter, living on a large estate, where he saw none but obliged 
guests or obsequious slaves, — commonly invested, moreover, with powers 
legislative judicial, or military, and sometimes with all united, — was likely 
to have a high sense of personal dignity and self-importance. Their form of 
civil polity, and the prevailing religion, endowed as it was with exclusive 
privileges, contributed, in some degree, to the same end. The aristocratic 
feeling, thus produced, variously manifested itself in the colonial laws. The 
W"hole public expenditure was defrayed by a capitation tax^ levied on all 
males, bond or free, above sixteen years of age, and all female slaves above 
the same age, — by which every other difference in property, except as to 
slaves, was disregarded ; and as to a part of the tax, the poorest man paid as 
much as the richest, since the expense of making and repairing the imhlic 
roads was borne equally by all males over sixteen ; the right of suffrage 
was limited to freeholders^ except during a part of the time of the Common- 
wealth, and a few years afterwards ; slaves were regarded as real estate, 
for the purpose of being annexed to the land, and of transmitting an undi- 
vided inheritance to the heir ; and, lastly, in 1705, a law was passed to take 
away from the courts the power of defeating entails, as had been the prac- 
tice in the colony, and was still permitted in England. 

" The high wages of the members of Assembly may be regarded as a 
further evidence of the same aristocratic injustice. Their compensation, 
during the reign of Charles the First, was one hundred and fifty pounds of 
tobacco a day, besides the expense of horses and a servant, amounting to 
about one hundi^ed pounds more. After allowing both for the lower money 

Life of Jefferson, Vol. i, p. 20. 



180 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

price of tobacco at that period and the greater vaUie of the precious metals, 
this dailj- compensation must be deemed equal to eight or ten dollars at the 
present time ; and as it was paid by the several counties to their respective 
members, we cannot wonder that it was one of the grounds of popular com- 
plaint in the insurrection of 1676, under Nathaniel Bacon.i In 1677 this 
complaint seemed to the commissioners sent from England so well founded, 
that, on their recommendation, the wages of the members were greatly 
reduced; 

" Persons thus clothed with power and authority, and accustomed to its 
exercise, were not likel}- to prove the most submissive of subjects ; and 
though there was probably always a court and a country party in Virginia, 
as well as in England, yet by far the larger part of aristocracy of the 
colony sided with the whigs in all the disputes with the crown, or its colo- 
nial representative, the governor. Indeed, the spirit of resistance to illegal 
or oppressive exertions of the royal prerogative seems never to have been 
long dormant, from the 3^ear 1624, when Virginia ceased to be a proprietary 
government, until the period of separation. 

"The annals of the colony, meagre as they unfortunately are, afford 
abundant evidences of this firm and independent spirit. Thus, in 1631, the 
Council and the House of Burgesses united in the bold step of sending the 
gOA^ernor, Sir Matthew Harvey, a prisoner to England, to be tried for the 
tyrannical acts of his administration. In 1657, when the colony, which had 
espoused the royal cause, capitulated to the force sent out by Cromwell, his 
commissioners expressly stipulated with the House of Burgesses that the 
people of Virginia ' should have and enjoy such freedom and privileges as 
belong to a freeborn people of England ; that trade should also be as free 
in Virginia as in England ; and that no tax, custom or imposition, should be 
laid in Virginia, nor forts nor castles erected therein, without the consent of 
the Grand Assembly.' 



1 Although the immediate cause of the complained of was, that all the revenue 

people's taking up arms, in that civil com- was raised by a poll tax, by which the 

motion, was to defend themselves against wealthy landholder contributed nothing, 

the Indians, who were then ravaging the except so far as he was an owner of slaves, 

frontier, and who found impunity in the This injustice was the more felt on account 

tardy and indecisive measures of an aged of the recent increase of taxes for the 

governor, yet after they had taken the purpose of purchasing up the improvident 

means of redress into their own hands, and grant made by Charles the Second to two 

returned from their expedition against the court favorites. They also complained of 

Indians, other causes of popular discontent the high wages of the members of Assem- 

in the laws themselves were the subject of bly, and the high fees of other public 

loud complaint, and became the reason or officers, — all indicating that the power of 

afforded a pretext for Bacon to keep his the government was exercised for the bene- 

force embodied, and, finally to assume the fit of the few at the expense of the many. 
attitude of open war. One of the grievances 



POLITICAL PARTIES IN VIPvGINIA. 181 

" In 1G73, Charles the Second having granted the whole province of Vir- 
ginia to the Lords Culpepper and Arlington for thirtj-one years, with the 
power to grant waste lands, receive quit-rents, form new counties, erect 
courts, and exercise similar acts of sovereignty, the colonists took alarm, and 
employed agents in England to apply to the crown, first for leave to purchase 
up this grant, and then for a new charter, which would secure the colon}' 
not only from a repetition of similar grants, but from other invasions of 
their rights. The application to the king's privy council by the colon3''s 
agents set forth ten provisions, which the}^ asked that their new charter 
should contain ; one of which was, ' that no tax or imposition should be laid 
on the people of Virginia but by the Grand Assembly.' After the negotia- 
tion of more than a year, the king, in conformity with the recommendation 
of his council, consented to all the requests, and directed a charter to be pre- 
pared accordingly. But either before the charter was executed, or, as some 
say, after execution, but before delivery, the news of Bacon's rebellion 
caused it to be stopped, and another substituted, in which, to the great dis- 
appointment of the colonists, the most important provisions, including the 
one respecting taxation, were omitted. 

" In 1677, the House of Burgesses made a spirited opposition to an inva- 
sion of their privileges b}^ tiie agents of the crown. The commissioners who 
had been sent out from England to investigate the circumstances of Bacon's 
rebellion, and who had been invested with a general power of sending for 
persons and papers, had demanded the journals of the house. This demand 
the Burgesses peremptorily refused ; and their clerk being afterwards com- 
pelled b}'' the commissioners to surrender them, the house, at its next session, 
after reciting this ' act of illegal violence,' declared their belief that ' his 
majesty would not grant ' this power to the commissioner, for they ' find not 
the same to have been practised by any of the Kings of England;' they 
did, therefore, ' take the same to be a violation of their privileges.' They 
asked, moreover, for satisfactory assurances that ' no such violation of their 
privileges should be offered for the future.' 

" This declaration of the Assembl}', Charles, in his instructions to Lord 
Culpepper, the Governor of Virginia, stigmatizes as ' seditious,' and requires 
him to have erased from their proceedings. 

" From this time until the Revolution of 1688, the Governor of Virginia 
and the Assembly seem to have been in a state of continual collision. The 
popular and the government parties were more distinctly marked, and in a 
higher state of irritation against each other, than at any previous period ; 
occasioned partly by the mutual injuries inflicted during Bacon's insurrec- 
tion, and 3'et more by the vindictive course of the governor and the ro3'alists 
which succeeded it, and partly from the more liberal notions of popular rights 
and constitutional law, which the progress of knowledge, and the discussions 
provoked bj^ the arbitrary measures of the house of Stuart, had produced in 
every part of the British dominions. 



182 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

"In the 3'ear 1G85 these bickerings rose to their greatest height. The 
Governor of Virginia, Lord Howard, had, b}^ proclamation, declared, that 
since an act of 1682, which repealed another act of 1680, had not received 
the ro3'al assent, the act snpposed to be repealed was still in force. The 
House of Burgesses, conceiving that the power now asserted might, bj^^ sus- 
2)ending the exercise of the rojal negative on the colonial laws, be used to 
revive laws that liad been long disused, and which every one supposed to 
have been repealed, made such a spirited remonstrance against this and other 
offensive acts of the government, that the governor prorogued the Assembl}'. 

" The reigning monarch, James the Second, in a letter to Lord Howard, 
passes a harsh censure on these 'irregular and tumultuous' proceedings of 
the house, the members of which, for thus presuming to question the negative 
voice intrusted to the governor, he does not hesitate to charge with ' disaf- 
fected and unquiet dispositions,' and with purposely protracting their time on 
account of their wages ; and he therefore directs the governor to dissolve the 
Assembl}'. As the high wages of the members had long been a subject of 
complaint, the governor condescended to touch this popular string, by direct- 
ing the king's letter ' to be publicly read in every county court, that the 
inhabitants and Burgesses may be made sensible how displeasing such obsti- 
nate proceedings were to his majest3\' 

" This disagreement continued until 1689, when, on the accession of Wil- 
liam and Mar}^, the liberal principles of the revolution prevailed, and pro- 
duced a more conciliatory course towards the colonies. From this time until 
1764, when the stamp act was proposed, there was no collision between 
either the crown or its representative and the Assembly of sufficient 
importance to attract the notice of historians, except the illegal fee for 
patents claimed b}' Governor Dinwiddie, in 1754. This the Assembly 
voted ' illegal and oppressive.' They even sent an agent to England 
expressly to procure its repeal." 

During the whole period of her colonial existence, the affairs of govern- 
ment wxre designedl}^ shaped to no instructive end. But in this colony 
the perversit}^ of man had become a lesson of wisdom, and royalty was per- 
mitted fully to demonstrate its own pitiful nature. Democrac}^ so com- 
mended itself to the intelligent aristocracy of Virginia that they embraced its 
principles, and the errors of monarchy served to illustrate its great and per- 
manent truths. The great statesmen of Virginia were the pupils both of 
experience and philosoph3\ 

SOUTH CAEOLINA.i 

The settlement of South Carolina, although commenced with the avowed 
purposes of extending the gospel to the heathen, was conducted with a liberal 

1 The first attempt at settlement in South some colonists from Virginia, in 16C0, who 
Carohna we have any account of was by landed on Port Royal Island ; but they soon 



FIRST SETTLEMENT OF SOUTH CAROLINA. 



183 



Spirit and an active eye to business. Men of every nation, sect and pro- 
fession ; of every class and condition ; the unfortunate, the indigent, and tlie 
outlaw, — were invited with earnest encouragements, and influenced b}^ sub- 
stantial inducements, to emigrate to this favored territory. The soil and 
climate were represented as favorable to all the objects of industrj^ ; the 
bounty offered by the proprietors to emigrants was an important considera- 
tion to the poor and oppressed of foreign nations, — and the population of 
Carolina rapidly increased. Here met the Cavalier and Puritan, with 
repressed recollections ; the English and the French, still swayed by national 
antipathies. Men of sober and severe habits of mind and body were joined 
by the thoughtless, who had been more accustomed to observe the requisi- 
tions of fashion than of principle ; and the man who counted labor as a 
blessing, however well supplied with the comforts of life, had for his com- 
panions those who, however destitute, had alwa3's viewed it as a curse. 
Here were represented the industry and the frugality of Holland, the cheer- 
fulness of Ireland, the firmness of England, the intelligence of Scotland,, 
and the endurance of Switzerland ; citizens, with reasonable motives to 
enterprise ; speculators, with extravagant hopes and reckless purposes ; and 
exiles, sobered by misfortunes and paral3'zed by oppression.^ "With such a 
population in the beginning, — with a government marked out b}' one of the 



abandoned the enterprise. Ten years after 
(1670) a few emigrants from England, 
under Colonel William Sayle, landed at the 
same place, and commenced a settlement ; 
but, for some cause or other, they continued 
here only a few months, and then removed 
eastwardly, and permanently located them- 
selves on the banks of Ashley river, above 
Wappo creek. Here on the first high land, 
they laid the foundation of a town, which, 
in honor of their king, they named Charles- 
ton. Two years afterwards the settlers 
found it expedient to remove to the oppo- 
site side of xishley river, where the present 
city of Charleston was founded (1672). 
Upon the restoration of Charles 11. , this 
country (Carolina) was granted by him, in 
the year 1663, to Edward, Earl of Claren- 
don, and others, with extraordinary privi- 
leges, as in 1665 this charter was enlarged. 
It was divided in North and South Carolina 
in 1729. — Mills' Statistics South Carolina. 
1 " To increase population seemed to be 
a primary object," says Ramsay. "There 
is no evidence of any plan to procure set- 



tlers of any uniform description, either as to 
politics or religion, further than that a 
decided preference was given to Protestants 
The emigrants were a medley of different 
nations and principles." "From England 
the colony received both Roundheads and 
Cavaliers ; the friends of the Parliament, 
and the adherents to the royal family. 
Young men reduced to misery by folly and 
excess ; restless spirits, fond of roving ; 
groups of settlers, from their attachment to 
particular leaders, — were to be found among 
the early settlers. In 1671, under the 
auspices of Sir John Yeamans, there was a 
small colony from Barbadoes ; soon after, a 
valuable addition from the Dutch settle- 
ment of Nova-Belgia ; in 1679 King Charles 
II. ordered two small vessels to be provide(i 
at his expense, to transport to Carolina 
several Protestants, who proposed to raise 
wine, oil, silk, &c. ; in 1685 the revocation 
of the edict of Nantes contributed much to 
its population, and from these French emi- 
grants have sprung families of the highest 
respectability. Besides the French refu- 



18-1 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



greatest minds of the age, and administered by men of active habits and 
strong theoretic convictions, — it becomes a subject of deep interest to learn 
the results, as embodied in the character of the community, or to be found 
in its organization. 

That the colony suffered from this diversity of condition and character is 
certain, — though it was in some considerable degree compensated by the 
activit}^ to which it naturally led. It was rather the diversity of differences 
than the harmon}^ of parts ; the application of theor}^, without due regard to 
fundamental principles. Yet, while this diversity was unfavorable to the 
permanency of a proprietary government, it must be admitted that its tend- 
encies to freedom were strong and direct. The doings of the government 
were closely observed by the various classes of people, and with varjdng 
motives. Such a government is too near the people to have the influence of 
roj^alt}^ ; too narrow in its policy to have the confidence of the Democracy. 
Proprietors cannot divest themselves of their private interests, and what may 
be proposed as a public measure, is examined as a private bargain. It is not 
in the nature of any man to be long an acceptable governor while his princi- 
ples of government are made subordinate to pecuniary interests. The wants 
of men as citizens are of a much higher character than the wants of men as 
animals. When Locke,i therefore, framed a government of succession with- 
out a proper estimate of the chances of change against the chances in favor 



gees who came directly from France, there 
was a considerable number which, after a 
short residence in the northern countries of 
Europe and of America, particularly from 
New York, repaired to this colony. In 1696 a 
Congregational church from Dorchester, 
Mass., with their minister. Rev. Jos. Lord, 
settled in a body near the head of Ashley 
river. From 1730 to 1750 great additions 
were made to the population. Contracts 
were made, bounties offered, free lands 
assigned, and otlier inducements held out 
to allure settlers from all nations. They 
came from England, Scotland, Ireland, 
Switzerland, Holland and Germany. Num- 
bers of Palatines arrived every year. In 
1755 there was a large number of exiles 
from Nova Scotia. The insecurity of life, 
liberty and property, in revolutionary 
France, and the indiscriminate massacre of 
Frenchman in St. Domingo, drove several 
hundreds, near tlie close of the eighteenth 
century, to the shores of Carolina." 

1 The proprietors, anxious to improve 
their property, with the aid of the celebra- 



ted John Locke, framed a constitution and 
laws for the government of their colony. 
These were in substance as follows : " The 
eldest of the eight proprietors was always 
to be the palatine, and at his decease was to 
be succeeded by the eldest of the seven sur- 
vivors. This palatine was to sit as presi- 
dent of the palatine's court, of which he 
and three more of the proprietors made a 
quorum, and had the management and 
execution of the powers of their charter. 
This court was to stand in room of the king, 
and give their assent or dissent to all laws 
made by the legislature of the colony. The 
palatine was to have power to nominate and 
appoint the governor, who, after obtaining the 
royal approbation, became his representative 
in Carolina. Each of the seven proprietors 
was to have the privilege of appointing a 
deputy to sit as his representative in Parlia- 
ment, and to act agreeably to his instruc- 
tions. Besides a governor, two other 
branches, somewhat similar to the old 
Saxon constitution, were to be established; 
an upper and lower house of assembly: 



LOCKE'S PLAN OF GOVERNMENT. 



185 



of character ; when he adopted the assumption that a proprietary interest 
could be a permanent basis of government, even when subjected to the dicta- 
tion of an uncertain Parliament, or a capricious king,— he certainly omitted 
to exercise his usual powers of discrimination, and failed to avail himself of 
that variety of knowledge in regard to man and nature for which he was so 
distinguished.^ The want of a proper application of principles to a condition 
of things as they exist ; the absence of a disposition in the rulers to recog- 
nize the peculiar wants and wishes of the people to be governed,— are errors 
which never fail to produce consequences alike fatal to the peace and pros- 
perity of society. As pride is a natural element in the character of man, 
self-respect is a sentiment which should be looked for in the people. To 
attempt to crush, or to abase it, is to degrade men, without any certainty of 
control, even if successful ; while to develop and direct so elevating a senti- 
ment, not only exalts the common standard of dignity, but leads to corre- 
sponding developments of mind, which demand action and application. 
The people of Carolina appeared well to understand their own business 



which three branches were to be called a 
parliament, and to constitute the legislature 
of the country. The parliament was to be 
chosen every two years. No act of the 
legislature was to have any force unless 
ratified in open parliament during the same 
session, and even then to contiue no longer 
in force than the next biennial parliament, 
unless in the mean time it be ratified by the 
hands and seals of the palatine and three 
proprietors. The upper house was to con- 
sist of seven deputies, seven of the oldest 
landgraves and cassiques, and seven chosen 
by the assembly. As in the other prov- 
inces, the lower house was to be composed 
of the representatives from the different 
counties and towns. Several officers were 
also to be appointed, such as an admiral, a 
secretary, a chief-justice, a surveyor, a 
treasurer, a marshal and register, — and, 
besides these, each county was to have a 
sheriff and four justices of the peace. 
Three classes of nobility were to be estab- 
lished, called barons, cassiques, and land- 
graves, — the first to possess twelve, the 
second twenty-four, and the third forty- 
eight thousand acres of land, and their 
possessions were to be inalienable. Mili- 
tary officers were also to be nominated ; and 
all inhabitants, from sixteen to sixty years 



of age, as in the times of feudal govern- 
ment, when regularly summoned, were to 
appear under arms, and in time of war to 
take the field. 

With respect to religion, three terms of 
communion were fixed. Eirst, to believe 
that there is a God. Secondly, that he is to 
be worshipped. And, thirdly, that it is 
lawful, and the duty of every man, when 
called upon by those in authority, to bear 
witness to the truth. Without acknowl- 
edging which, no man was permitted to be 
a freeman, or to have any estate or habita- 
tion in Carolina. But persecution for ob- 
serving different modes and ways of worship 
was expressly forbidden; and every man 
was to be left full liberty of conscience, and 
might worship God in that manner which 
he thought most conformable to the divine 
will and revealed word. — See Ramsay's S. 
C, Vol. I, p. 31. 

1 " Several of our American writers," says 
Bancroft, " have attempted to exonerate 
Locke from his share in tlie work which 
they condemn ; but the constitutions, with 
the exception I have named, are in har- 
mony with the principles of his philosophy, 
and with his theories on government. — Kead 
Bancroft, Vol. ii, p. 114. 



186 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



wants ; and when they saw in their rulers the spirit of injustice, and a policy 
characterized by all the elements of selfishness and iniquity, they lost all 
confidence in the integrity of propert}' agents, and all respect for the motives 
of those who confessed themselves to be their followers. Alive to that inde- 
pendent spirit which is engendered by a companionship of men bringing 
together the sentimental nationalities of their various homes ; moved by 
interests which had been nursed into life b}^ hardships, and fostered by sacri- 
fices ; sustained by the tests of experience, and warned by examples of 
treachery, — the}' sought for relief in revolutionary measures without being 
false to the king, and expressed a greater confidence in a government that 
counted them as a part of a nation than in a government that would degrade 
the colony to the narrow limits of a corporation.! 



1 The most numerous party in the coun- 
try were dissenters from the estabUshed 
church of England. The Cavafiers were 
highly favored by the proprietors, and were 
generally preferred to offices of trust. The 
Puritans, on the other hand, viewed them 
with great jealousy. Several of the first 
emigrants, unaccustomed to rural labors 
and frugal simplicity, were pampered citi- 
zens, whose wants luxury had increased and 
rendered impatient of fatigue. By such 
the sober lives and rigid morals of the 
Puritans were made the objects of ridicule. 
The Puritans retaliated by opposing their 
influence among the people. The odious 
terms of distinction which had prevailed in 
the mother country were revived and prop- 
agated. The same scenes of debate and 
contention which had taken place in Eng- 
land, before and after the restoration of 
Charles II., were acted over again on the 
little theatre of Carolina, — but without 
bloodshed or legal prosecution. Disputes 
between the proprietors and settlers were of 
an early origin. The first contest was 
respecting advances for the encouragement 
of the settlers. The economy of the pro- 
prietors and the necessities of the settlers 
could not easily be compromised. The one 
thought that they had already done too 
much ; the other, that they had not received 
enough. To the latter, requesting a supply 
of cattle to be sent out to them, the proprie- 
tors replied, as a reason for their refusal, 
"that they wished not to encourage 
graziers, but planters." It is from this 
epoch that we may date the prosperity of Car- 



olina; because she was then taught the 
important lesson, — " That she must alto- 
gether depend on her own exertions." 

Two parties arose ; one in support of the 
prerogative and authority of the proprietors, 
the other in defence of the rights and liber- 
ties of the people. In this situation, no 
governor could long support his authority. 
From 1682 to 168G there were no less than 
five governors. Rigorous measures led to 
riots, gentle means to contempt. Resort to 
martial law exasperated the people to such 
a degree against the governor, that, in 1690, 
at a meeting of the representatives, a bill 
was passed for disabling Landgrave James 
Colleton from holding any office or exercis- 
ing any authority, civil or military, within 
the province. He was banished by the peo- 
ple. He was followed by a usurper who 
rendered himself infamous by acts of injus- 
tice, — publicly tried before the assembly, 
found guilty and banished from the country. 
The colony was agitated by various ques- 
tions of right and interest till 1719, when 
a revolution took place which changed the 
proprietary to a regal system of government. 
The people accused the proprietors of being 
false to their own declarations, false to the 
great interests of religion, false to the 
demands of justice, false to the best interests 
of the colony and to the principles of free- 
dom. They held a convention, appealed to 
the crown, invited the governor to leave or 
join them, and thus established a new gov- 
ernment. Royalty unconsciously responded 
to tlie demands of Democracy. — See Ram- 
say's Hist. S. (7., vol. I. 



NORTH CAROLINA. 



187 



After South Carolina^ had become a royal province, and the people ha("\ 
assimilated in tastes, habits and character, the government was conducted 



1 Carolina -was divided into two colonies, 
North and South, in 1719. The first settle- 
ment in North Carolina was at Cape Fear, 
by people from Massachusetts, in 1G61. The 
most numerous settlers in the north-western 
part of Carolina were Protestants, chiefly 
Presbyterians, from the north of Ireland^ 
Bethabara was first settled by a company 
of Moravians, in 1753. Their numbers 
increased, and Bethany was begnn in 1759, 
three miles from Bethabara. In 17G3 they 
had built a church, and settled a teacher. 
Upon the arrival of the first Moravian col- 
ony directly from Europe, they began to 
build Salem, which was intended for a man- 
ufacturing town. They were joined by 
companies from Massachusetts and Mary- 
land. In 1749, Neal M'Neal arrived at 
Wilmington, with his family and near six 
Jmndred colonists, young and old, from the 
Highlands, Scotland. They settled chiefly 
in Cumberland county ; but some of them 
settled in Anson, and others in Blodou. 
Another company of Highlanders arrived in 
1754, and some afterwards. They came 
chiefly from Argyleshire ; many of them 
from Ha or Jura. 

North Carolina was "insulted and de- 
pressed," says Williamson, "by the weak 
or vicious administration of wicked judges 
and worthless governors." The laws that 
were made to support a religious establish- 
ment," says the same author, " retained 
their force ; for they were supported by the 
spirit of party. Learning was neglected, 
because it was of no part}-." The govern- 
ment of this colony was convulsed at diflPer- 
ent periods by riots and insurrections, and 
all the miseries of misrule visited upon the 
people. The most arbitrary acts were re- 
sorted to by the government to defraud the 
people of their property, and to deprive 
them of their rights. The Regulating in- 
surrection (1772) had its origin in the abuse 
of power," says Williamson, "and the de- 
pravity of civil ofl[icers. The laws had not 
been respected by men whose duty it was to 
see them executed. Sheriffs who collected 



the taxes, in many cases, were greatly in 
arrears ; and the public accounts were in a 
state of shameful disorder. In that situa- 
tion of public affairs, it was not difficult to 
persuade illiterate and ignorant men that 
taxes should not be paid which probably 
would never be converted to public use." 

The terms of agreement adopted by the 
"Regulators" indicate integrity of pur- 
pose, if not judgment in respect to proper 
means for their accomplishment. They 
united for ' ' regulating public grievances 
of power, in the following particulars ; with 
others of tha like nature that may occur. 
1. That we will pay no more taxes until we 
are satisfied they are agreeable to law and 
applied to the purposes therein mentioned, 
unless we cannot help it, or are forced. 2. 
That we will pay no officer any more fees 
than the law allows, unless we are obliged 
to it ; and then to show our dislike, and bear 
an open testimony against it." They then 
agree to hold meetings of conference, in 
order to consult their representatives on the 
amendment of such laws as may be found 
grievous or unnecessary ; to choose more 
suitable men than they had done for bur- 
gesses and vestry-men ; and to petition the 
houses of assembly, governor, council,. king 
and parliament, &c., for redress of griev- 
ances, for the fullenjoymentof their constitu- 
tional rights and privileges. They agreed 
to abide by the decisions of a majority of 
their number, and took oath of their solemn 
determination to be faithful to the end. And 
yet, Williamson says : 

" The ' Regulators ' in N. Carolina were 
universally royalists, commonly called tories, 
during the Revolutionary War. Many 
people of rank and fortune in the other 
colonies, Avho held public employments, or 
chanced to be otherwise connected with 
government, adhered to the royal cause; 
but in North Carolina we could hardly dis- 
cover among the royaUsts a man who might 
be deemed respectable from his fortune, his 
learning or his influence in society ; hardly 
a man who had ever sustained a commis- 



188 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

with more extended views, and colonial interests were sustained as a part of 
public policy. These changes were followed b}' evidences of public and pri- 
vate prosperit}', which, though limited, gave to the people a long period of 
content. The population of the colonj^ increased, industry received its 
reward, and society its gratifications. But the heart of the colony was in 
England. South Carolina had not j-et become the home of the people. It 
was onl}' a countr}^ for a successful business ; and, while their trade was pros- 
perous, the people gave but little attention to the current questions of govern- 
ment. The}' sent a large portion of their children to England and Scotland to 
be educated ; and, while they discovered a growing taste for the refinements 
of society, the}' were slow to mature for themselves the broad foundations of 
society itself. Still, their quiet enjoyment of rights, — where the discussion 
of rights was not made necessary for pecuniary protection ; their disposition 
to acquire knowledge under circumstances of exemption from the responsi- 
bilities of public duty, were sources of influence calculated to give freedom to 
mind, and the spirit of independence to man. Men, when permitted, unmo- 
lested, to study the events of history, and the blessings and honors of patriot- 
ism, are certain to be patriots when placed in power. This truth was con- 
firmed by the spirited sons of South Carolina at the time of the Revolution. 
Their intelligence gave them an abiding confidence in Democracy. 

NEW YORK.i 

New York was commenced with no higher purposes than those of business. 
The proprietors were conservative Dutchmen ; and, true to their proverbial 



sion civil or military. The tories were a opposite reason, that they believed that 

poor, ignorant race. A regiment of those popular rights would be protected by roy- 

people was commanded by a colonel who alty. North and South Carolina did not 

could not read. He was called Fanning begin to prosper, says Chalmers, "until 

the Unlearned. Their politics were founded blessed with a simple form of government; 

on hatred of the people who had corrected when the one acquired the manufacture of 

them, not on principle." — Williamson's naval stores, the other the production of 

North Carolina, vol. ii, p. 164. rice and indigo: which have made both, 

Perhaps if the historian had said that in modern times, populous, wealthy and 

their politics were founded on a spirit of great." — Annals, i^. 552. 
general distrust of those who had ruled i The North River was discovered by 

over them, he would have done them more Henry Hudson, a commander in the Dutch 

justice. The people of South Carolina had service, 1609. It was named in honor of 

been relieved by royalty, although they saw its discoverer. The Dutch sent out ships 

no reason afterwards to be true to their to trade with the natives in 1610. Argall, an 

protector. The people of North Carolina, English commander, captured, in 1613, a few 

it seems, proved true to the power in which humble dwellings which the Dutch had built 

they had most confidence; but that power on the island of Manhattan ; and this was the 

was unable to save them. It was not beginning of New York. In 1615 the 

because they were opposed to popular rights Dutch settled Albany, which they called 

that they favored royalty, but for the Fort Orange. The whole country claimed 



DUTCH WEST INDIA COMPANY. 



189 



reputation, they favored no theory but that which gave preeminence to cap- 
ital, and unconditional servility to labor. The Dutch West India Com- 
pany ^ by whose facilities the settlement was made, and by whose authority 
the colonists were directed, was an organization as destitute of political 



by them in virtue of Hudson's discovery 
received the name of the New Netherlands. 
Manhattan Island was called New Amster- 
dam. In 1625 a settlement was commenced 
at Brooklyn, on Long Island. The Dutch 
claimed the whole country from Cape Cod 
to Cape Henlopen. It was claimed by the 
English on the plea of prior discovery by 
Cabot. In 1643 the Dutch became involved 
with the Indians, and in 1651 with the 
Swedes, who had settled on the Delaware. 
The Swedes were compelled to submit. In 
1664 Charles II., as the English had never 
abandoned their claim to the country, made 
a grant of it to his brother, the Duke of 
York. The government of England was 
established over the whole colony in Octo- 
ber, in 1664, without opposition, and its 
name was changed to New York. In a war 
between England and Holland, in 1673, the 
colony was reconquered by the Dutch, but 
was restored in the following year. In 1683 a 
colonial assembly established a constitution, 
which was styled a charter of liberies. 

1 The charter establishing the Dutch 
West India Company bears date the 3d of 
June, 1621. It was modelled after that 
granted, in the beginning of the seventeenth 
century, to the celebrated East India 
Company. 

"The central power of this vast association 
was divided among five branches, or cham- 
bers, established in the different cities of the 
Netherlands, the managers of which were 
styled Lords Directors. Of these, that of 
Amsterdam was the principal ; and to this 
was entrusted the management of the 
affairs of New Netherland. The general 
supervision and government of the com- 
pany were, however, lodged in a board, or 
assembly, of nineteen delegates, eight 
(increased, in 1629, to nine) of whom were 
from the chamber at Amsterdam, four from 
Zealand, two from Meuze, and one from 
each of the chambers at Friesland, the 
North Department, Groenengen. The nine- 



teenth was appointed by their High Mighti- 
nesses the States General. 

*' Apart from the exclusive trade of the 
coast of Africa, from the tropic of Cancer 
to the Cape of Good Hope, and of the coast 
of America, from the Straits of Magellan to 
the extreme north, this company was 
authorized to form alliances witli the chiefs 
of the native Indian tribes, and obligated to 
advance the settlement of their possessions, 
encourage population, and do everything 
that might promote the interests of those 
fertile countries, and increase trade. To 
protect their commerce and dependencies, 
they were empowered to erect forts and 
fortifications ; to administer justice and 
preserve order ; maintain poli*ce, and exer- 
cise the government generally of their 
transmarine affairs ; declare war and make 
peace, with the consent of the States 
General; and, with their approbation, 
appoint a governor, or director-general, and 
all other ofiicers, ciAdl, military, judicial and 
executive, Avho were bound to swear alle- 
giance to their High Mightinesses, as well 
as to the company. The director-general 
and his council were invested with all 
powers, judicial, legislative and executive, 
subject, some supposed, to appeal to Hol- 
land; but the will of the company, ex- 
pressed in their instructions, or declared in 
their marine or military ordinances, was to 
be the law in New Netherland, excepting in 
cases not especially provided for, when the 
Eoman law, the imperial statutes of Charles 
v., the edicts, resolutions, and customs of 
Eatherland, were to be received as the 
paramount rule of action. 

"The States General engaged, among 
other things, to secure to the company free- 
dom of navigation and traffic within .the 
prescribed limits, and to assist them with a 
million of guilders — equal to half a million 
of dollars ; and in case peace should be 
disturbed, with sixteen vessels of war and 
four yachts, fully armed and equipped ; the 



190 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

character as its members Avere dead to the great objects of existence. The 
government of Holland was as parsimonious in the expenditure of its power 
as the Dutch were reluctant to part wdth their stivers. The promises of the 
one, which proposed nothing but opportunit}^, were made consistent b}^ the 
other, which afforded no position above that of labor.^ The nation, and its 
wealthy men, as monopolists, were in co-partnership. The nation granted 
no power that implied the risks of responsibilit}^, — the monopolists promised 
nothing for character, that involved expense, bej^ond the lowest price and 
rudest condition. The avowed object of the colony w^as to extend the trade 
of the country that had given it so mean an existence. The people were 
counted as mere appurtenances to the corporation, and Democracy was but 
another word for imposition, and public sentiment a term of imbecilit}^ 
Sovereignty became the travelling-guest of precarious fortune, and the rights 
of men were sold to the highest bidder. Religious opinions of all kinds 
were tolerated, — not from a sense of justice, but from a heartless indiffer- 
ence. Freedom of trade was forbidden. Everything for profit, nothing for 
principle, was their practical motto. Emigrants from all countries were 
invited to the colony, with every encouragement, apparentl}^, that the perse- 
cuted would find peace, the unfortunate comfort, and the industrious wealth. 
The invitation was not without its effect, and it was accepted by many .2 But 
they soon found themselves in one of Holland's work-shops, claimed as sub- 
jects of taxation, and assigned to posts of labor that increased the power 
of the monopoly, added to the hopes of the stock-holders in the Netherlands, 
and multiplied the restraints of government. With a single eye to the 
business of the compan}^, working-men were preferred, as best able to serve 
the colon}^ ; and when they arrived they were permitted to elect between 
burthensome employments or pauperism, — between a subordinate station 
or oppression. The commands of the company were absolute. All emi- 
grants were required to promise obedience, without reference to time or con- 
ditions. To prevent free discussion, town-meetings were forbidden ; and 
the i)eople were deliberately advised that their good consisted in believing 
that Holland was the world, and that the Dutch West India Company were 
its agents ; that money was national glory, and that Holland was its ultimate 
depository. Industry was looked upon as so much labor done, with utter 
indifference as to the means, whether by man or horse ; and education was 
prized just so far as it increased the productiveness of the laborer without 



former to be at least three hundred, and which, with all merchant vessels, were to 

and the latter of eighty tons burden. But be commanded by an admiral appointed and 

these vessels were to be maintained at the instructed by their High Mightinesses."— 

expense of the company, which was to O'Callaglian, Vol. i, p. 90. 

furnish, unconditionally, sixteen ships, and 

fourteen yachts, of like tonnage, for the 1 See Charter to Dutch West India 

defence of trade and purposes of war, Company. 



OPPRESSIONS IN NEW NETHERlAND. 191 

adding to his wages. New Netherland was valued for the products of its 
country, and its natural sources of wealth ; and the people were regarded 
as workmen employed, but not as men entitled to the privileges of citizen- 
ship. 

The reader will be at no loss what to anticipate from such a polic}'. The 
company could neither do. justice to its own interests., nor protect the inter- 
ests of others.^ It was false to its masters, and oppressive to its servants. 

It was a benevolent dispensation of Providence that such a specimen of self- 
ishness was given to the continent. It will ever afford an instructive example, 
to be contrasted with experiments of a -different and opposite character in the 
other colonies. It will serve to show how indifferent to the public good a 
corporation is apt to be, in its attempts to increase its wealth, though the 
people employed may suffer from all the degradations of povert}", ignorance and 
vice. It will tend to illustrate the truth, that money without character is but 
an insignificant power, when compared to character without money. The 
oppressions of the company soon began to produce their natural consequences. 
The people divided. The passively indifferent, such as had experienced none 
of the delights of freedom, received their wages with an unmeaning silence. 
Some, those who had been frequent victims of misfortune, and whose broken 
courage failed them, were pressed, with their dependents, into the void of 
priuperism. Others, still influenced by hope, and sustained b}' phj'sical 
vigor, decided upon a change, and left for Maryland and Virginia. Others, 
still, with an abiding spirit of self-determination, remained, to insist, to agi- 
tate, and to conquer. Their remonstrances and declarations recite the griev- 
ances inflicted by tyranny, and the remedies to be found in Democracy.^ 



1 New Netherland cost the company, as it goyemment." This paper was couched in 
appears from their books, over half a these bold and unscrupulous terms : 
million of guilders ($220,000), from the "I. We have transported ourselves liither 
year 1626 to 1844 inclusive. — O' Callaghan, at our own cost; and many among us have 
Vol. I, p. 350. purchased their lands from the Indians, the 

2 In May, 1653, Captain John Underhill, right owners thereof. But a great portion 
who had been the leader of the Dutch of the lands which we occupy being as yet 
forces in the Indian war, hoisted the British unpaid for, the Indians come daily and com- 
Parliament colors, and issued " an address plain that they have been deceived by the 
to the Commonality of the Manhattans, on Dutch secretary, called Cornells, whom they 
behalf of as many of the English and have characterized, even in the presence of 
Dutch as were interested therein," declara- Stuyvesant, as a rogue, a knave and a liar ; 
tory of the motives "which impelled them asserting that he himself had put down their 
to abjure the iniquitous government of names in the book, and saying that this was 
Peter Stuyvesant over the inhabitants living not a just and lawful payment, but a pre- 
and residing on Long Island in America, tence and fraud similar to that which occa- 
and maintaining the justice and lawfulness sioned the destruction of Thomas Hutehin- 
of defending themselves and their rights, in son, Mr. Collins, and nine other persons. 

a manner becoming a free people, against " II. He hath unlawfully retained from 

the oppressive administration of the said several persons their lands, which they had 



192 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Men were hold, and parties violent.^ Seeing the source of their di.Ticulties, 
the people hud confidence in their abilit3' to remove them. Thej^ began to 



purcliased from the natives, and which were 
confirmed to them under the hand and seal 
of the previous governor. 

"III. He hath unhiwfully imposed taxes, 
contrary to the privileges of free men ; name- 
ly, six stivers per acre, chimney-money and 
head-money ; the tenth part of all our grain, 
flax, hemp and tobacco ; the tenth part of 
butter and cheese from those who pasture 
cattle ; excessive duties on exported goods — 
fifteen stivers for a beaver ; all which taxes 
are to be paid by the poor farmer, to main- 
tain a lazy horde of tyrants over innocent 
subjects. 

"IV. He hath, in violation of liberty of 
conscience, and contrary to hand and seal, 
enforced articles (of belief) upon the peo- 
ple, ordering tliem otherwise, against the 
laws of God and man, to quit the country 
within two months. 

"V. He hath imprisoned both English 
and Dutch, without trial setting them at 
liberty again, after a popish inquisition, to 
their great sorrow, damage and loss of time, 
himself not having any Patent from King 
James of England, the right grantor thereof. 

" VI. He hath, also, imposed general 
laws forbidding the inhabitants to sell their 
goods, or to brew their grain, without the 
approbation of his government. 

" VII. He hath neglected to avenge Eng- 
lish and Dutch blood shed by the Indians 
since the peace. 

"VIII. He hath treacherously and un- 
doubtedly conspired, as proved, to murder 
all the English. 

" IX. He hath been guilty of barbarous 
cruelty towards Mr. Jacob Wolfertsen and 
his wife, at the time of the birth of their 
child. 

" X. He hath acted treacherously towards 
Thomas Newton ; for, notwithstanding the 
government had promised him safe and se- 
cure conduct, he hath ordered his arrest and 
surrendered him. 

" XI. He hath been guilty of the unheard- 
of act of striking with his cane an old gentle- 

1 See note li, 



man, a member of his council, and hath 
publicly threatened every freeman who does 
not conform to his pleasure. 

"XII. He hath, moreover, imposed mag- 
istrates on freemen without election and 
voting. This great autocracy and tyranny 
is too grievous for any brave Englishman 
and good Christian any longer to tolerate. 
In addition to all this, the Dutch have pro- 
claimed war against every Englishman, liv- 
ing Avherever he mry wish or like. 

" The above grounds are sufficient for all 
honest hearts, that seek the glory of God 
and their own peace and prosperity, to throw 
oflT this tyrannical yoke. Accept and submit 
ye, then, to the Parliament of England, and 
beware ye of becoming traitors to one another 
for the sake of your own quiet and welfare. 

" Written by me, John Underhill." 

Underbill was ordered to quit the province 
forthwith. — 0' Callaghan, ii, p. 224. 

In December, 1G53, the people called a 
convention to deliberate upon their rights 
and privileges, and demanded that no new 
laws should be enacted without their con- 
sent. Bancroft gives the substance of their 
remonstrance and petition, from the Dutch 
originals, drafted by George Baxter. They 
say: "The States General of the United 
Provinces are our liege lords ; we submit to 
the laws of the United Provinces ; and our 
rights and privileges ought to be in harmony 
with those of the Eatherland, for we are a 
member of the state, and not a subjugated 
people. We, who have come together from 
various parts of the world, and are a blended 
community of various lineage ; we, who 
have, at our own expense, exchanged our 
native lands for the protection of the United 
Provinces ; we, who have transformed tlie 
wilderness into fruitful farms, — demand that 
no new laws shall be enacted but with con- 
sent of the people, that none shall be appoint- 
ed tt); office but with the approbation of the 
people, that obscure and obsolete laws shall 
never be revived." 

Here is an example of Beraocracy from 

next page» 



DEMOCRACY OF HOLLAND AND ENGLAND. 



193 



realize a proper self-respect ; to discover the responsible relations of industry 
as connected with mind ; and to discern that, in addition to the duties of 
clothing and feeding their bodies, they had souls to exercise, characters to 
form, and a society to redeem and perpetuate. The sun of liberty was shin- 
ing upon the continent ; geographical lines could not intercept its light. It 
radiated from the south and from the north, and New Netherland could not 
long remain in darkness. Democracy had been planted there from Ne.y 
England ; and the Puritan and Dutch Republican rejoiced together, recog- 
nizing the great truths that industry harmonized with moral duty, that 
wealth was nothing without character, and that duty and character could be 
nothing without freedom. ^ 

But New Netherland had its root in Holland, — the other colonies, in 



Holland (1653), and the Governor, Stuy- 
VESANT, fairly represented the opposite par- 
ty. In his reply, he said : " Will you set 
your names to the visionary notions of the 
New England man? Is no one of the Neth- 
erlands' nation able to draft your petition? 
And your prayer is so extravagant, — you 
might as well claim to send delegates to the 
assembly of their High Mightinesses them- 
selves ! 

"Laws will be made by the Director and 
Council. Evil manners produce good laws 
for their restraint ; and therefore the laws 
of New Netherlands are good. 

*' Shall the people elect their own offi- 
cers? — If this rule become our cynosure, 
and the election of magistrates be left to 
the rabble, every man will vote for one of 
his own stamp. The thief will vote for a 
thief; the smuggler for a smuggler; and 
fraud and vice will become privileged. 

" The old laws remain in force ; directors 
will never make themselves responsible to 
subjects." — Vol ii, p. 306. 

O'Callaghan makes a slight exception to 
the translation of Bancroft. He says : 
" The Director-general does not call Baxter 
* a New England man ;' he calls him plainly 
an Englishman, as distinguishing him from 
a Dutchman, without any reference to New 
England." — Hist. New Netherland, Vol. 
ir, p. 248. 

1 "Traitor," "villain," " liar," were epi- 
thets flung at the Director-general with 
unsparing hand; and, notwithstanding the 
banishments and heavy fines were imposed 

13 



on the libellers, many threatened him with 
rougher usage when he should "take off 
the coat with which he was decorated by the 
lords his masters." — 0' Callaghan, i, p. 395. 

2 O'Callaghan thinks that Bancroft does 
injustice to the Dutch in supposing that 
they derived their ideas of "popular free- 
dom" from the Puritans. He says: "Eor 
more than a century previous to the period 
of which we now write, three hundred 
manors in the province of Holland alone 
enjoyed all the rights of free municipalities, 
and exercised civil and criminal jurisdiction, 
to a limited extent. In removing to another 
hemisphere the Dutch lost not their affection 
for their native country and its institutions. 
They brought with them the names of those 
places to which they were most attached, 
and, in the course of time, transferred also 
to their new homes the municipal system 
which we have described above, and with 
which they were most conversant. 

" Those colonists who shall form within 
their limits such a settlement of people as to 
constitute hamlets, villages, or even cities, 
shall obtain in such case middle and low 
jurisdiction, and the same rights as manors 
in the province of Holland ; and shall, in 
like manner, be capacitated also to bear and 
use the names and titles thereof. And the 
qualified persons of such cities, villages and 
hamlets, shall, in such case, be authorized 
to nominate for the office of magistrates a 
double number of persons, wherefrom a 
selection shall seasonably be made by the 
Director and Council, the appointment oi 



lOtt 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



England. Holland had reached its period of unity ; England had commenced 
its period of extension and diversit}^ Holland was conservative, England 
democratic. Holland was a trader ; England a missionary of truth. Eng- 
land enjoyed a unity in sovereignty, and represented a principle ; Holland 
based its sovereignty on property, and was content to receive an interest. 
Cromwell saw the discordant elements in the Dutch colony ; but it was left 
to be removed by Charles II., and in time to be governed both by a royalist 
and a papist. 

The colou}^ commenced with a gross abuse of a noble principle. The 
tjTanny of wealth allows no grace. It appeals to the lowest motives, and ex- 
tends but little favor to the generous affections or to the refinements of mind. 
Its attentions to society, as such, are but acts of condescension and com- 
placenc3\ The company soon saw that their plans were in no proportion to 
their wishes ; and, still having more confidence in property than in principle, 
they enlarged their errors, but failed to correct them.^ Small proprietors, 
with their industry, had not succeeded ; it now remained to be seen what 
could be done by large proprietors, with their wealth. They conceded to 



a schout, secretary, and court-messenger, 
remaining to the company ; with the under- 
standing that the jurisdiction sliall be holden 
in fief by the respective colonists and found- 
ers of cities gjid villages, to be disposed of 
and renewed, in case of the demise of those 
who shall be named, in manner hereinbefore 
stated. And justice shall be administered 
therein according to the style and order of 
the province of Holland, and the cities and 
manors thereof, to which end the courts 
there shall follow, as far as the same is pos- 
sible, the ordinances received here in Am- 
sterdam. 

" It was, then, to tliat republican state — 
to the wise and beneficent modifications of 
the feudal code which obtained there, and 
not to 'the Puritan idea of popular freedom' 
introduced by emigrants from Connecticut, 
as some incorrectly claim — that New Neth- 
erland and the several towns within its con- 
fines were indebted for whatever municipal 
privileges they enjoyed. The charters un- 
der which they were planted, the immuni- 
ties wliich they obtained, were essentially 
of Dutch, and not of Connecticut origin; 
and those who look to New England as the 
source of popular privileges in New Neth- 
.crland fail, therefore, into an error, sanc- 



tioned neither by law nor by history." — 
Vol. I., p. 392. 

With a little modification, both are right. 
O'Callaghan virtually admits the truth of 
Bancroft in giving the causes of the failure 
of the Dutch colony, and when he com- 
pares it with those of the English, and in 
assigning to the English so leading a part. 
Bancroft confirms the historical accuracy 
of O'Callaghan, when he says, " British 
ofiicials sent home complaints of ' the Dutch 
Republicans^ as disloyal." — Vol. iv, p. 
145. The Democrats of England were in 
advance of those of Holland; but when 
they met in New Netherland they breathed 
the same atmosphere, loved the same soil, 
moved in the same light, honored the same 
principles, shared the same dangers, fought 
the same battles, and rejoiced in the same 
victories. 

1 Seven years had now nearly elapsed 
since the incorporation of the West India 
Company, and five since that body had been 
in active operation, yet nothing had been 
done to carry out that part of the charter 
which obliged them to advance settlements 
and encourage population in those fertile 
countries in North America committed to 
their charge. A few servants of the com- 



PATROONS OF NEW YORK. 



195 



an aristocrac}^ what belonged to the people ; and the}^ soon found rivals in 
patroons,^ who consented to agreements because these established them in 
power, and not because of any general good intended for society or for man. 
And thus, as will be seen in the charter,^ were " transplanted to the free soil 



pany, connected with the trading-posts 
which served as a rendezvous for the neigh- 
boring Indians, were the only inhabitants, 
it may be said, of the extensive country 
claimed as New Netherland. Not a parti- 
cle of the soil was reclaimed, save what 
scantily supplied the wants of those attached 
to the three forts which were erected within 
the limits of this rich and vast territory ; 
and the only exports were the spontaneous 
products of the forests. Experience had 
demonstrated, in the interim, that no bene- 
fits had accrued to the company from this 
plantation, under the present system of 
management, except what the peltries pro- 
duced. The mode of life pursued by the 
people was very irregular, the expenses of 
the establishment excessively high, and the 
results not as flattering as anticipated. 
These considerations having been fre- 
quently brought before the XIX., it was 
finally determined that the resources of the 
country under their jurisdiction would be 
most efficiently developed by the planting of 
" colonies," or seignorial fiefs or manors, 
there. 

A meeting of the Assembly of the XIX., 
accordingly took place early this year. It 
was attended by commissioners from their 
High Mightinesses the States General, and 
directors and assessors on the part of the 
principal partners ; and a draft of a 
" charter of privileges and exemptions," 
which was considered alike serviceable to 
the company and advantageous to the 
patroons, masters, and private individuals, 
who should plant colonies in New Nether- 
land under its provisions, having been sub- 
mitted, was referred forthwith to a com- 
mittee for examination, which was in- 
structed to report to a future meeting. — 
0' Callaghan, Vol. i, p. 110. 

1 In 1G52 it was said that "the patroons 
have become so daringly enterprising as 
not only to abuse their privileges, but to 



presume to exclude the inhabitants of New 
Netherland from trading in their colonies, 
which is not only contrary to the law of 
nature, but opposed to the laws and cus- 
toms of the land." — 0' Callaghan, Vol. ii, 
p. 189. 

2 Articles reported by a committee to the 
Assembly of XIX., who, on the seventh day 
of June, 1629, agreed to these important 
concessions, which were duly ratified by the 
States General, and published in the follow- 
ing terms : 

«' FREEDOMS AND EXEMPTIONS 

CHANTED BY THE ASSEMBLY OF THE XIX. OP 
THE PRIVILEGED WEST INDIA COMPANY, 
TO ALL SUCH AS SHALL PLANT ANY COLO- 
NIES IN NEW NETHERLAND : 

" I. Such members of the said company 
as may be inclined to settle any colonic in 
New Netherland shall be permitted to send 
in the ships of this company going thither 
three or four persons to inspect the situa- 
tion of the country, provided that they, 
with the officers and ship^'s company, swear 
to the articles, so far as they relate to them, 
and pay for provisions and for passage, 
going and coming, six stuyvers per diem ; 
and such as desire to eat in the cabin, 
twelve stuyvers, and to be subordinate and 
give assistance like others, in cases offen- 
sive and defensive; and if any ships be 
taken from the enemy, they shall receive, 
pro rata, their proportions with the ship's 
company, each according to his quality ; 
that is to say, the colonists eating out of the 
cabin shall be rated with the sailors, and 
those who eat in the cabin with those of 
the company's men who eat at table and 
receive the lowest wages. 

" II. Though, in this respect, shall be 
preferred such persons as have first 
appeared and desired the same from the 
company. 

" III. All such shall be acknowledged 



196 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



of America," sa3's O'Callagban, " the feudal tenure and feudal burdens of 
continental Europe, a fact remarkable principally as a characteristic of the era 



Patroons of New Netherland who shall, 
Avithin the space of four years next after 
they have given notice to any of the Cham- 
bers of the Company here, or to the Com- 
mander or Council there, undertake to 
plant a colonie there of fifty souls, up- 
wards of fifteen years old ; one-fourth part 
within one year, and within three years 
after the sending of the first, making 
together four years, the remainder, to the 
full number of fifty persons, to be shipped 
from hence, on pam, in case of wilful 
neglect, of being deprived of the privileges 
obtained ; but it is to be observed that the 
company reserve the island of the Man- 
hattes to themselves. 

" IV. They shall, from the time they 
make known the situation of the places 
where they propose to settle colonies, have 
the preference to all others of the absolute 
property of such lands as they have there 
chosen ; but in case the situation should 
not afterwards please them, or that they 
should have been mistaken as to the quality 
of the land, they may, after remonstrating 
concerning the same to the Commander and 
Council there, be at liberty to choose an- 
other place. 

"V. The Patroons, by virtue of their 
power, shall and may be permitted, at such 
places as they shall settle their colonies, to 
extend their limits four miles* along the 
ghore, that is, on one side of a navigable 
i-iver, or two milesf on each side of a river, 
and so far into the country as the situation 
of the occupiers will permit ; provided and 
conditioned that the company keep to them- 
selves the lands lying and remaining be- 
tween the limits of colonies, to dispose 
thereof, when and at such time as they 
ghall think proper, in such manner that no 
person shall be allowed to come within 
seven or eight miles J of them without their 
consent, unless the situation of the land 
thcreal)out were such that the Commander 
and Council, for good reasons, should order 
otherwise ; always observing that the first 



occupiers are not to be prejudiced in the 
riglit they had obtained, other than, unless 
the service of the Company should require 
it, for the building of fortifications, or 
something of that sort; remaining, more- 
over, the command of each bay, river, or 
island, of the first-settled colonie, under 
the supreme jurisdiction of their High 
Mightinesses the States General, and the 
company; but that, on the next colonies 
being settled on the same river or island, 
they may, in conjunction with the first, 
appoint one or more council, in order to 
consider what may be necessary for the 
prosperity of the colonies on the said river 
and island. 

"VI. They shall forever possess and 
enjoy all the lands lying within the afore- 
said limits, together with the fruits, rights, 
minerals, rivers and fountains thereof; as 
also the chief command and lower jurisdic- 
tions, fishing, fowling and grinding, to the 
exclusion of all others, to be holden from 
the company as a perpetual inheritance, 
without it ever devolving again to the com- 
pany, and in case it should devolve, to be 
redeemed and repossessed with twenty 
guilders per colonie, to be paid to this 
company, at the chamber here, or to their 
commander there, within a year and six 
weeks after the same occurs, each at the 
chamber where he originally sailed from.; 
and further, no person or persons whatso- 
ever shall be privileged to fish and hunt but 
the Patroons and such as they shall permit ; 
and in case any one should in time prosper 
so much as to found one or more cities, he 
shall have power and authority to establish 
officers and magistrates there, and to make 
use of the title of his colonie, according to 
his pleasure and to the quality of the 
persons. 

"VII. There shall likewise be granted 
to all Patroons who shall desire the same, 
venia testandi, or liberty to dispose of their 
aforesaid heritage, by testament. 

"VIII. The Patroons may, if they 



•Equal to sixteen English miles. 



tOr eiglit English miles. 



JThirty-two English mile». 



PATROONS OF NEW YORK. 



197 



in which it was produced. It bears all the marks of the social system which 
prevailed at the time, not only among the Dutch, but among the other nations 



think proper, make use of all lands, rivers 
and woods, lying contiguous to them, for 
and during so long a time as this company 
shall grant them to other patroons or par- 
ticulars. 

"IX. Those who shall send persons 
over to settle colonies shall furnish them 
with proper instructions, in order that they 
may be ruled and governed comformably to 
the rule of government made, or to be 
made, by the Assembly of the Nineteen, as 
well in the political as in the judicial gov- 
ernment ; which they shall be obliged first 
to lay before the directors of the respective 
colleges. 

" X. The Patroons and Colonists shall be 
privileged to send their people and effects 
thither, in ships belonging to the company, 
provided they take the oath, and pay to the 
company for bringing over the people as 
mentioned in the first article : and for 
freight of the goods five per cent, ready 
money, to be reckoned on the prime cost of 
the goods here ; in which is, however, not 
to be included such creatures and other 
implements as are necessary for the cultiva- 
tion and improvement of the lands, which 
the company are to carry over without 
any reward, if there is room in their ships. 
But the Patroons shall, at their own 
expense, provide and make places for them, 
together with everything necessary for the 
support of the creatures. 

"XI. In case it should not suit the 
company to send any ships, or in those 
going there should be no room ; then the said 
Patroons, after having communicated their 
intentions, and after having obtained con- 
sent from the company in writing, may send 
their own ships or vessels thither : provided, 
that in going or coming they go not out of 
their ordinary course; giving security to 
the company for the same, and taking on 
board an assistant, to be victualled by the 
Patroons, and paid his monthly wages by 
the company ; on pain, for doing the con- 
trary, of forfeiting all the right and 



property they have obtained to the colonic. 

^^XIL Inasmuch as it is intended to 
people the island of the Manhattes first, all 
fruits and wares that are produced on the 
lands situate on the North River, and lying 
thereabout, shall, for the present, be 
brought there before they may be sent else- 
where; excepting such as are from their 
nature imnecessary there, or such as can- 
not, without great loss to the owner thereof, 
be brought there ; in which case the owners 
thereof shall be obliged to give timely 
notice in writing of the difficulty attending 
the same to the company here, or the com- 
mander and council there, that the same 
may be remedied as the necessity thereof 
shall be found to require. 

"XIII. All the Patroons of colonies in 
New Netherland, and of colonies on the 
island of Manhattes, shall be at liberty to 
sail and traffic all along the coast from 
Florida to Terra Neuf, provided that they 
do again return with all such goods as they 
shall get in trade to the island of Manhattes, 
and pay five per cent, for recognition to the 
company, in order, if possible, that after 
the necessary inventory of the goods 
shipped be taken, the same may be sent 
hither. And if it should so happen that 
they could not return, by contrary streams 
or otherwise, they shall, in such case, not 
be permitted to bring such goods to any 
other place but to these dominions, in 
order that under the inspection of the direc- 
tors of the place where they may arrive 
they may be unladen, an inventory 
thereof made, and the aforesaid recognition 
of five per cent, paid to the company here, 
on pain, if they do the contrary, of the for- 
feiture of their goods so trafficked for, or 
the real value thereof. 

"XIV. In case the ships of the Pa- 
troons, in going to, or coming from, or sail- 
ing on the coast from Florida to Terra 
Neuf, and no further, without our grant, 
shall overpower any of the prizes of the 
enemy, they shall be obliged to bring, or 



198 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



whictL had adopted the civil law. The ' colonies ' were but transcripts of the 
' lordships ' and ' seigneuries ' so common at this period, and which the 



cause to be brought, such prize to the 
college of the place from whence they 
sailed out, in order to be rewarded by them ; 
the company shall keep the one-third part 
thereof, and the remaining two-thirds shall 
belong to them, in consideration of the cost 
and risk they have been at, all according to 
the orders of the company. 

"XV. It shall be also free for the afore- 
said Patroons to traffic and trade all along 
the coast of New Netherland and places 
circumjacent, with such goods as are con- 
sumed there, and receive in return for them 
all sorts of merchandise that may be had 
there, except beavers, otters, minks, and 
all sorts of peltry, which trade the company 
reserve to themselves. But the same shall 
be permitted at such places where the 
company have no factories, conditioned 
that such traders shall be obliged to bring all 
the peltry they can procure to the island of 
Manhattes, in case it may be, at any rate, 
practicable, and tliere deliver to the Director, 
to be by him shipped hither with the ships 
and goods ; or, if they should come here, 
without going there, then to give notice 
thereof to the company, that a proper 
account thereof ma)"- be taken, in order that 
they may pay to the company one guilder 
for each merchantable beaver and otter 
skin; the property, risk, and all other 
charges, remaining on account of the Pa- 
troons, or owners. 

" XVI. All coarse wares that the colo- 
nists of the Patroons there shall consume, 
such as pitch, tar, wood-ashes, wood, grain, 
fish, salt, hearthstone, and such like things, 
gliall be brought over in the company's 
ships, at the rate of eighteen guilders ($7.20) 
per last; four thousand weight to be 
accounted a last, and the company's ship's 
crew shall be obliged to wheel and bring the 
salt on board, whereof ten lasts make a 
hundred. And in case of the want of ships, 
or room in tlie ships, tliey may order it over 
at their own cost, in ships of their own, and 
enjoy in these dominions such liberties 
and benefits as the company liave granted ; 



but in either case they shall be obliged to 
pay, over and above the recognition of five 
per cent., eighteen guilders for each hun- 
dred of salt that is carried over in the com- 
pany's ships. 

"XVII. For all wares which are not 
mentioned in the foregoing article, and 
which are not carried by the last, there shall 
be paid one dollar for each hundred pounds 
weight; and for wines, brandies, verjuice 
and vinegar, there shall be paid eighteen 
guilders per cask. 

"XVIII. The company promises the 
colonists of the Patroons that they shall be 
free from customs, taxes, excise, imposts, or 
any other contributions, for the space often 
years ; and after the expiration of the said 
ten years, at the highest, such customs as 
the goods are taxable with here for the 
present. 

"XIX. They will not take from the 
service of the Patroons any of their colo- 
nists, either man or woman, son or daughter, 
man-servant or maid-servant, and though 
any of them should desire the same, they 
will not receive them, much less permit 
them to leave their Patroons, and enter into 
the service of another, unless on consent 
obtained from their Patroons in writing; 
and this for and during so many years as 
they are bound to their Patroons ; after the 
expiration whereof, it shall be in the power 
of the Patroons to send hither all such colo- 
nists as will not continue in their service, 
and until then shall not enjoy their liberty. 
And all such colonists as shall leave the 
service of his Patroon and enter into the 
service of another, or shall, contrary to his 
contract, leave his service ; we promise to 
do everything in our power to apprehend 
and deliver the same into the hands of his 
Patroon, or attorney, that he may be pro- 
ceeded against, according to the customs 
of this country, as occasion may require. 

" XX. From all judgments given by the 
courts of the Patroons for upwards of fifty 
guilders {$2Q) there may be an appeal to 



PATROONS OF NEW YORK. 



199 



French were establisliing, contemporaneously, in their possessions north of 
New Netherland, where most of the feudal appendages of high and low jiiris- 
diction, mutation fines, preemption rights, exclusive monopolies of mines, 
minerals, water-courses, hunting, fishing, fowling, and grinding, which we 
find enumerated in the charter to patroons, form part of the civil law of the 
countrj^ at the present day. But, however favorable the feudal tenure may 
be to a 3'oung country, and to agriculturists of small capital, whose interest 
it might be to husband their scanty means, in order the quicker and more 
effectually to enable them to reclaim their wild land, it cannot be denied that 
the charter before us had many faults and many imperfections. ' While it 
secured the right of the Indian to the soil,' srjs Moulton, ' and enjoined 
schools and churches, it scattered the seeds of servitude, slaverj^ and aristoc- 
racy. While it gave to freemen as much land as they could cultivate, and 
exempted colonists from taxation for ten years, it fettered agriculture by 
restricting commerce and prohibiting manufactures.' " 



the company's commander and council in 
New Netherland. 

"XXI. In regard to such private per- 
sons as on their own account, or others in 
the service of their masters here (not en- 
joying the same privileges as the Pa- 
troons), shall be inclined to go thither and 
settle ; they shall, with the approbation of 
the Director and council there, be at liberty 
to take up as much land, and take posses- 
sion thereof, as they shall be able properly 
to improve, and shall enjoy the same in 
full property either for themselves or 
masters. 

"XXII. They shall have free liberty of 
hunting and fowling, as well by water as by 
land, generally, and in public and private 
woods and rivers, about their colonies, ac- 
cording to the orders of the Director and 
council. 

"XXIII. Whosoever, whether colonists 
of Patroons for their Patroons, or free 
persons for themselves, or other particulars 
for their masters, shall discover any shores, 
bays, or other fit places for erecting fish- 
eries, or the making of salt ponds, they 
may take possession thereof, and begin to 
work on them in their own absolute prop- 
erty, to the exclusion of all others. And 
it is consented to that the Patroons of colo- 
nists may send ships along the coast of 
New Netherland, on the cod fishery, and 



with the fish they catch to trade to Italy, or 
other neutral countries, paying in such 
cases to the company for recognition six 
guilders ($2.40) per last; and if they should 
come with their lading hither, they shall be 
at liberty to proceed to Italy, though they 
shall not, under pretext of this consent, or 
from the company, carry any goods there, 
on pain of arbitrary punishment ; and it 
remaining in the breast of the company to 
put a supercargo on board each ship, as in 
the eleventh article. 

"XXIV. Incase any of the colonists 
should, by his industry and diligence^ 
discover any minerals, precious stones,^ 
crystals, marbles, or such like, or any pearl 
fishery, the same shall be and remain the 
property of the Patroon or Patroons of such 
colony ; giving and ordering the discoverer 
such premium as the Patroon shall before- 
hand have stipulated with such colonists 
by contract. And the Patroons shall be 
exempt from all recognition to the company 
for the term of eight years, and pay only 
for freight, to bring them over, two per 
cent., and after the expiration of the afore- 
said eight years, for recognition and freight, 
the one-eighth part of what the same may 
be worth. 

"XXV. The company will take all the 
colonists, as well free as those that are in 
service, under their protection, and the 



200 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Here was another element of aristocracy to be tested on the continent, and 
to be made subordinate to Democrac3\ It was a necessary specimen to be 
exhibited in its results. The experiment found safety in its limits ; and all 
the good that could come from it was realized without any of its dangers. 
Its temporary inconveniences are of but little consequence when compared to 
the extent of its practical influences. 

The Dutch West India Company were faithful to the propertj^ element 
from first to last. They first attempted to serve themselves, and then the 
aristocracy. The}^ were first disappointed, and then mastered. The people, 
who had been counted nothing by either party, soon had the power to destroy 
the controlling influence of both ; and what began in oppression ended in the 
blessings of Democracy. Thus was laid the broad basis of the Empire State. 
The property influence ranged upon the entire scale of enterprise, from the 
profits of the meanest laborer to the income of the feudal lord. The " Dutch 
Republicans " asserted the dignity of citizenship, and the patroons soon real- 
ized that they could ask for nothing higher. Such a beginning aflforded 
noble opportunities to test the conquering principles of Democrac}^ and to 
exhibit its glorious triumphs in every form of unparalleled prosperity' .^ The 
massive machinery of monopol}^, sustained by the government of a proud and 
persevering republic, was made to j^eld to individual enterprise ; and what 



same against all outlandish and inlandisli 
wars and powers, with the forces they 
have there, as much as lies in their power, 
defend. 

"XXVI. Whosoever shall settle any 
colonic out of the limits of the Manhattes 
Island, shall be obliged to satisfy the 
Indians for the land they shall settle upon, 
and they may extend or enlarge the limits 
of their colonies if they settle a proportion- 
ate number of colonists thereon. 

"XXVII. The Patroons and colonists 
shall in particular, and in the speediest 
manner, endeavor to find out ways and 
means whereby they may support a minister 
and schoolmaster, that thus the service of 
God and zeal for religion may not grow 
cool, and be neglected among them ; and 
that they do, for the first, procure a comforter 
of the sick there. 

" XXVIII. The colonies that shall hap- 
pen to lie on the respective rivers or islands 
(that is to say, each river or island for 
itself) shall be at liberty to appoint a 
deputy, who shall give information to the 
commander and council of that Western 



quarter of all things relating to his colonic, 
and who are to further matters relating 
thereto, of which deputies there shall be 
one altered, or changed, in every two 
years ; and all colonies shall be obliged, at 
least once in every twelve months, to make 
exact report of their colonic and lands there- 
about, to the commander and council there, 
in order to be transmitted hither. 

" XXIX. The colonists shall not be per- 
mitted to make any woollen, linen or cotton 
cloth, nor weave any other stuffs there, on 
pain of being banished, and as perjurers 
to be arbitrarily punislied. 

"XXX. The company will use their 
endeavors to supply the colonists with as 
many blacks as they conveniently can, on 
the conditions hereafter to be made ; in such 
manner, however, that they shall not be 
bound to do it for a longer time than they 
shall think proper. 

"XXXI. The company promises to 
finish the fort on the island of the Man- 
hattes, and to put it in a posture of defence 
without delay." 

See Appendix F, p. 633. 



BASIS OF THE EMPIRE STATE. 201 

was designed to fill the strong coffers of Holland became tlie gain of its 
humblest sons and their most worthy descendants. Their characteristics are 
briefly given by Chancellor Kent. He says : " They were grave, temperate, 
firm, persevering men, who brought with them the industry, the economy-, 
the simplicity, the integrity and the bravery, of their Belgic sires ; and with 
those, virtues they also imported the lights of the Rom.an civil law, and the 
purity of the Protestant faith." 

But New York was surrendered to be dismembered by a papist, and by a 
l^apist to be blessed with the institutions of freedom.^ A portion of the ter- 
ritor}^, before the conquest, had been assigned, by the Duke of York, to Lord 
Berkeley and Sir George Carteret, and called New Jerse3^ 

New Jersey was soon characterized by the godly government of the Puri- 
tans ; and the people of New York, after passing through man}- changes, 
asserted the Democratic platform in their charter of liberties. Both colonies 
had the political benefit of repeated contests between England and Holland, 
and both colonies had opportunities to study political economy in the exam- 
ples of practice to be seen in the people of diflerent religious creeds, and to 
discover that where Democracy prevailed toleration and prosperity followed 
as consequences. 

The part}' contests of New York, after its surrender to the English, were 
in keeping with the character of the people already established. Collisions 
between the royal governors and the colonial assemblies were constant, bitter, 
and exciting. Merchants'-^ and large landholders^ saw their true interests in 

1 In 1683, Thomas Dongan, a papist, gave New York a place by the side of Vir- 

was appointed governor of New York, ginia and Massachusetts. 

*' with instructions to convoke a free legis- "The 'Charter of Liberties' declared 

lature." — See Bancroft, Vol. ii, 414. 'supreme legislative power' shall forever 

The assembly consisted of seventeen be and reside in the governor, council and 

members, and never exceeded twenty-seven people, met in general assembly. Every 

down to the commencement of the Eevolu- freeholder and freeman shall vote for repre- 

tionary War. It exercised a discretionary sentation without restraint. No freeman 

power as to the grant of supplies for the shall suffer but by judgment of his peers ; 

support of government. This was a con- and all trials shall be by a jury of twelve men. 

stant source of difference between the No tax shall be assessed, on any pretence 

assemblies and the governors, — the latter whatever, but by the consent of the assem- 

invariably wishing for a permanent pro- bly. No seaman or soldier shall be quar- 

vision. Fletcher began the struggle in tered on the inhabitants against their will. 

169G, and it continued as long as England No martial law shall exist. No person, 

appointed governors for New York. — See professing faith in God by Jesus Christ, 

Dunlap, Vol. i, 134. shall at any time be anyways disquieted or 

On the 17th of October, 1683, " about questioned for any difference of opinion." 

seventy years after Manhattan was first ^ In a letter to the Board of Trade, 1752, 

occupied," says Bancroft ( ii., 414), " about Clinton says, " The faction in this province 

thirty years after the demand of the popular consists chiefly of merchants."— " Entire 

convention by the Dutch, the representa- disregard of the laws of trade." 

tives of the people met in assembly ; and ^ The large landholders — whose grants, 

their self-established ' Charter of Liberties' originally prodigal, irregular and ill-defined, 



202 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Democracy,^ and the property power and the people became allies. 
But there were other experiments in colonization based upon the property- 
element, and in New England. The character of Massachusetts was tested 
as the proprietor of Maine ; and the contrast between her government and 
that of Holland over New York affords an instructive lesson in history. 

NEW HAMPSHIRE.2 

New Hampshire was made the subject of sale and mortgage b}^ specula- 
tors ; but character had been established before interest, and rights were 
prized above propert}-. A few hardy adventurers were the pioneers of this 
region, who, though not impelled bj^ the zeal of the Puritan, were well fitted 
for the labors of the forest, and the dangers of a wilderness inhabited by 
the savage. They were soon to be helped, however, by the persecutions of 
Scotland and Massachusetts ; and the dissenters of two hemispheres met to 
embrace among the granite hills. 

" The first settlers of New Hampshire," sa^^s Barstow, " were a few mer- 
chant adventurers.^ The}' were not distinguished for literature or religion. 
Thej^ did not come, like the Pilgrims, 



Breaking the depths of the desert' i 
With their hymns of lofty cheer.' 



gloom 



promised opulence for generations — were 
equally jealous of British authority, wliich 
threatened to bound their pretensions, or 
question their titles, or, through Parliament, 
to impose a land tax. — Bancroft, Vol. it, p. 
147. 

1 (1691). Dunlap says, "Jacob Leisler, 
a simple burgher and merchant, becomes a 
dignified object, when the choice of his 
fellow-burghers, freeholders of New York, 
place him as their commander-in-chief, in 
opposition to the lieutenant-governor of the 
tyrant and bigot James, for the purpose of 
preserving civil liberty. Party, which is 
indispensable to popular government, may 
be said, if not to have had its birth at the 
time in New York, at least to have taken its 
* form and pressure ' as it exists in this day. 
We see in that party of which Leisler 
was the head the germ of our present demo- 
cratic representative government." — Hist. 
N. Y., Vol. i, p. 210. 

The error of tracing the origin of parties 
to circirmstances, instead of principles, is a 
common one. This will be made obvious 
in a future chapter, that will be devoted 
to notices of distinguished Democrats of 



all ages, with a classification of subjects 
upon which they have acted. 

2 New Hampshire was discovered by 
Captain John Smith, in 1614. In 1623 the 
first settlement was made at Dover and 
Little Harbor, near Portsmouth, under a 
grant obtained of the Plymouth Company, in 
1622, by Gorges and Mason. The territory 
comprised in the grant was called Laconia, 
and it embraced a part of the present State 
of Maine. In 1629 the name of iVewf 
Hampshire was given to this territory. In. 
1641 the people placed themselves under 
the government of Massachusetts, and thus 
remained till 1680, when New Hampshire 
became a separate royal province. In 1686 
the' authority of Andros was extended over 
the province ; but when he was deposed, 
the people of New Hampshire took the 
government into their own hands. In 1690 
they again placed themselves under Massa- 
chusetts ; were separated again in 1692, and 
once more annexed in 1699. In 1741 
Massachusetts and New Hampshire were 
severed for tlie last time. 

3 In tlie council of Plymouth there were 
two men whose fame belongs to New Ilamp- 



EARLY SETTLEMENT OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 203 

Yet the}" were, like them, a bold and hard}' few. Forsaking their English 
homes in quest of better fortune, they opened a path over the ocean, and 
chose the wildest solitudes of nature for the scene of their experiment. 
Their energy and perseverance, their fortitude and courage, made them the 
terror of the Indians, and fitted them for the struggles of freedom against 
oppression. They were obliged to fight and conquer a savage foe. They 
gained their subsistence by a constant warfare against the obstacles of 
nature. The}^ went out to the field of toil with arms in their hands. While 
with their axes they bowed the woods, their firelocks leaned against the near- 
est trees. Their swords hung at their sides. In the character of these men 
avarice and romance were blended. 

" After them came a band of the persecuted. They were driven from a 
neighboring colony ' for conscience' sake.' These shared the perils of the 
others. Their character took its impress from the troubled scenes in which 
theh' lives were passed. Their days, also, were devoted to the fields of toil 
and battle. Their descendants were nurtured from childhood in the midst 
of hardships. They were taught in the school of adversit}^ Resolution, 
firmness of pm-pose and patient endurance, impress themselves on their char- 
acter, and mark their history. 

" The next and most brilliant period of New Hampshire colonization is 
that which is connected with the historj^ of Scotland. The border romances, 
the songs of the bard, the Covenanter's honest faith, and all the proud recol- 
lections and glorious memories of the land of Burns, were to be transported 



shire. These were Ferdinando Gorges and Mason had taken care to secure to them- 
Captain John Mason. In 1622 they re- selves some portion of the expiring interest, 
solved to unite their fortunes. They pro- That of Mason comprehended both of his 
cured a joint grant of the pro\inee of former patents ; and, in September follow- 
Laconia. This comprised all the land ing, Gorges sold to him a tract of land on 
between the rivers Merrimac and Sagada- the north-east side of the Piscataqua. 
hock, extending back to the great lakes and Mason died in 1635 ; and in 1692 his 
the river St. Lawrence. In 1629 Laconia heirs sold their title to New Hampshire to 
was divided between Mason and Gorges. Samuel Allen, of London, who was ap- 
The wild region east of Piscataqua was pointed governor. He did not come to 
relinquished to Gorges, and took the name of America till 1698, and his administration 
Maine ; while the tract west of this river, lasted but one year. He revived the 
and extending back into the country sixty Masonian claim ; and, after his death, his 
miles, was confirmed to Mason. He had son again in 1715, but without success, 
resided in the county of Hampshire, Eng- The death of the son relieved the people of 
land, and he called this grant New Hamp- this long and distracting controversy. — See 
shire. Both Gorges and Mason were Barstow's New Hampshire. So far as 
deluded by golden dreams, and attempted possible examples of history are given in 
no settlement but with motives to wealth, the language of the best writers. If the 
and did not even establish a government, student Avould fully understand their teach- 
Previous to the surrender of the patent of ings he should read the entire works from 
New England to the king, Gorges and which they are taken. 



204 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

to the wild woods of New Hampshire. They came with the settlers of 
Londonderry."^ 

In lG-41, when New Hampshire was united to Massachusetts, "four dis- 
tinct governments had been formed on the several branches of the Piscata- 
qua. These combinations were but voluntar}- agreements. They might be 
invaded by capricious leaders, or dashed asunder by the first wave of popular 
discontent. The people were too much divided to form any general plan of 
government, and the distracted state of the mother country cut off all hope 
of the YOjSil attention. In this state of things, the minds of the more con- 
siderate men were turned to a union with Massachusetts. The affair was 
agitated for more than a year ; and, on the 14:th of April, 1641, it was con- 
cluded by an instrument of union, subscribed in the presence of the General 
Court. Thus did Massachusetts spread her jurisdiction over the Piscataqua 
settlements. Her laws now took immediate effect in New Hampshire, and 
the histories of the two plantations, for a period of thirty-eight 3'ears, become 
blended together. The population of New Hampshire at this time did not 
exceed one thousand, which was about one-twentieth of the whole population 
of the American Colonies. When the act of union took place, one extraor- 
dinary concession was made to New Hampshire. By a law of Massachu- 
setts, a test had been established which provided that none but church-mem- 
bers should vote in town affairs, or sit as members of the General Court. 
This gospel requisite was dispensed with in favor of New Hampshire mem- 
bers, and her freemen were permitted to vote in town affairs, and her depu- 
ties to sit in the General Court, without regard to religious qualifications ; an 
amazing stride in liberalit}^, — a stretch of toleration, which some declared 
to. amount to absolute atheism, and others looked upon as the entering wedge 
of impiet}^, destined to sunder the goodly bands of society. It sent a shud- 
der through the whole body of the church. 

" Under the new order of things, Wheelright^ was no longer safe. His 
sentence of banishment was still in force ; and when the laws of Massachu- 
setts took effect in New Hampshire, he was obliged to make another remove 
to escape the sword of persecution. Attended by a few faithful followers, 
he withdrew to Wells, in Maine, and there gathered a small church. He 
was afterwards permitted to return, and exercise his ministry at Hampton.""* 

The proprietors of this territory had not learned to distinguish between 
ownership in land and the rights of man. They saw no sovereignty but in 



1 Barstow, p. 6. said Cromwell, turning to the gentlemen 

2 Wheelright and Cromwell were at the then about him, " when I have been more 
university together. When Cromwell was afraid of meeting Wheelright at football 
Lord Protector, Wheelright visited Eng- than of meeting any army since in the 
land, and was received very kindly by his field." — Barstow, p. 54. 

old acquaintance. " I remember the time," 3 barstow, p. 53. 



OPPRESSIONS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE. 205 

property, and claimed a jurisdiction coextensive with geographical bounda- 
ries, regardless of the occupants of the soil. The character of this soA^er- 
eignty was soon summarily exemplified b}' the English government in the 
decision that the unoccupied lands only were subject to their control, and that 
all questions of title to the soil which had been improved must be submitted 
to the colonial courts. Thus England acknowledged a sovereignt}- in the 
Democracy of New Hampshire, and the claimants of Mason found themselves 
simply citizens among others, and placed upon the common level of equal 
rights. To give form to the colonj^, with a view to cooperate with the pro- 
prietors, and to adjust their interests as connected with those of tlie people, 
New Hampshire was separated from Massachusetts, and made a roj^al prov- 
ince. 

A governor was appointed, and conditions declared in respect to govern- 
ment. The conditions of the king and the proprietary were defined, and the 
riglits of the people explained, but not conceded. Royalty asserted a sover- 
eignt}" in an alliance with the representatives of property, and a party was 
organized to execute the narrow purposes of the unhol}- coalition.^ The peo- 
ple were distracted b}^ frequent lawsuits, judges were blinded by corruption, 
juries packed,'^ and even the old machiner}" of ecclesiastical power was turned 
upon its rusted pivots, to aid men who could neither dispense justice as the 
agents of the throne, nor comprehend the reasonableness of its connection 
with their particular interests. But the people were alive to the full exercise 
of their rights, and the spirit of Democracy asserted self-government with 
an independence that was in harmony with their character, though at war 
with the self-complacent enemies of popular liberty.^ A Democratic party 
was organized, associations formed, and part}' contests were of frequent occur- 
rence among the people and in the assembl3\ Property soon became subor- 



^ In 1682, when the claim of Mason was Mason's suits at law against your majesty's 
revived, "by a deed, Mason surrendered to subjects, there hath been generally one jury 
the king one-fifth part of all quit-rents, for returned to serve all the said issues with 
tlie support of the governor, and gave to little alterations and almost constantly one 
Cranfield (who had been appointed gover- foreman (who for that end wee are apt to 
nor, and who had no motives above those feare) was early complied with by Mr. 
of speculation) a mortgage of the whole Mason for all the lands in his own posses- 
province for twenty-one years, as collateral sion formerly, with addition of several other 
security for the payment of his salary." — lands to his owneprofiitt." — BeIJcnap,Yoi..i, 
Bancroft, Vol. ii, 117. xcii., xciii. App. 

2 In a petition (1685) from "loyal sub- 3 jn 1680 a general assembly was con- 
nects " of New Hampshire to his majesty, vened at Portsmouth. The rights of tlie 
they say " that they had, for more than fifty colony were asserted by a solemn decree, 
years, been peaceably possessed of the lands the first in their new code : "No act, impo- 
lately challenged by Mr. Mason," &.c. — sition, law, ordinance, shall be valid, unless 
Belknap, Vol. i. App. xcii. made by the assembly and approved by the 

" That for the last two yeare's and upward people." Thus did New Hampshire seize 

dureing the whole management of Mr. the earliest moment of its separate exist- 



206 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

dinatc to princii)lo, and conservatism gradually surrendered to Democracy. 
New Hampshire was surrounded and filled with circumstances favorable 
to growth, strength, and independence. Its proximity to Massachusetts, and 
the lofty training to which it was so long subjected by so powerful a neigh- 
bor ; its uninterrupted beginning and earl}' establishment in the great prin- 
ciples of Democracy- ; the unanimity of its people in defending their rights 
against the encroachments of the king and his agents, — were sources of 
enlarged views, inspiring encouragements, and confirming resolutions. 



GEORGIA.i 

But in singular contrast with the experiment of the Dutch West India 
Company in New Netherland, another and a nobler principle remained to be 
tested in the last of the thirteen colonies, Georgia. 

This was purely an experiment of benevolence, — a colon}' to be based 
upon " charity, that beautiful and Avinning grace, that diamond cincture, 
which binds together the fair sisterhood of virtues." It was a noble tribute 
to the brightest features of humanity, and a magnificent test of public sen- 
timent in England. 

That the first successful colon}^ should be a company of exiles, and 
that the last emanation of the colonizing spirit of Great Britain to America 
should be an act of good-will towards the unfortunate, presents a phase in 
life as beautiful as it is extraordinary. The Earl of Chesterfield may have 
deemed a parliamentar}' connection between roj^alty and charit}' " indecent," 
but such a fastidious sensibility would hardly be sustained b}^ public opinion, 
either in its fretful moods or reflective moments.^ 



ence to express the great principle of self- dered to the crown, and Georgia became a 

government, and take her place by the side of royal province. 

Massachusetts and Virginia. The code was 2 ^n appropriation bill was proposed in 
disapproved in England, *' both for style Parliament (1733), in which several different 
and matter ; and its provisions were reject- objects wore provided for, and, among them, 
ed as incongruous and absurd," — Bancroft^ one for granting the Princess Royal a mar- 
VoL. II, 116. riage portion, another for the new colony in 
1 In 1729 a project was formed for the set- Georgia, &.c. When under discussion in 
tlement of a colony upon the unoccupied the House of Lords, the Earl of Chester- 
territory between the rivers Savannah and field said, "My Lords, I do not rise up to 
Altamalia, to be called Georgia. Upon oppose the bill now before us ; but I think 
application, George II. granted a charter, it is incumbent upon me to declare that it 
in 1732, to the company, consisting of Lord is, in my opinion, a most indecent thing to 
Percival and twenty others, among whom provide for the Princess Royal of England 
was the celebrated Oglethorpe, and incor- in such a manner : — it is most disrespectful 
porated them by the name of the Trustees to the royal family to provide a marriage 
for establishing the Colony of Georgia in portion for so illustrious a branch of that 
America. In 1752 the charter was surren- family in such a bill of items. Here is, 



GREAT SCHEME OF BENEVOLENCE. 207 

Men have not 3*et ceased to theorize, and to try experiments narrowed to 
a small fraction of their elements, and adding still to the experience of the 
past, that no theory will be confirmed b3^ the practical tests of time, unless 
framed with distinct purposes, comprehending all the faculties of the mind 
in their greatest activity in relation to external objects. The faculties are to 
be trained and developed together. They are to be applied to the discern- 
ment of things, of people, and of nations, as they exist together. Isolation 
in philosophy is an absurdity. Nothing is to be studied by itself. All 
things were made for some purpose, and bear to one another a certain rela- 
tionship which teaches the great truth of adaptation in the parts, and a har- 
mony in the whole. A single idea, a single faculty, may travel forward in 
advance of its natural company, it may be, to prepare the way for its 
companions or contemporaries, but it either has to wait their arrival, or to 
return to their circle, before it can enter into a full and complete demonstra- 
tion to show its truth or practical importance. The subdivision of labor 
gives to every man the work for which he is peculiarly fitted. The world is 
infinite in its variety, and no part of this variety can be neglected or detached 
with impunity. The composition of progress is a unity, — and as the plan- 
ets throw off" from their surface occasional fragments, to be returned toward 
their centres b}^ the laws of gravitation, so progress, in the flights of mind, 
springs from the active in society, to be returned to the common bosom of 
thought. 

In 1729, " A committee was appointed b}' Parliament to inquire into the 
state of the jails of the kingdom, and to report the same, and their opinions 
thereupon, to the house." " This committee," ssljs Stevens, " raised on 
the motion of James Oglethorpe, Esq.,^ in consequence of the barbarities 



imprimis, five hundred thousand pounds for ^ The family of Oglethorpe was one of 
the current service of the year. Item, ten the most ancient in England. It may be 
thousand pounds by way of charity for traced backwards eight hundred years, to 
those distressed persons who are to trans- the Norman conquest. William Ogle- 
port themselves to the colony of Georgia, thorpe, the great-grandfather of James, the 
Item, so much by way of charity for repair- founder of Georgia, was a member of the 
ing an old church, &c." But the Earl of household of King Charles the First. His 
Chesterfield was not alone in his horror of grandfather was page to Charles II. ; and 
sucli a monstrous contiguity of dissimilar his father, Sir Theophilus, was with the 
items. The Earl of Winchelsea said, "I Duke of Monmouth in the battle of Both- 
cannot but take notice of that part of the well Bridge, was an ofiicer of distinction 
bill by which eighty thousand pounds is under the Duke of York and afterwards 
granted as a portion for the Princess Royal, first equerry and major-general of the army 
It is so unbecoming a thing to see that of King James II. Though politically an 
grant made in such a hotch-potch bill," &c. adherent to the fortunes of James, he 
*' I am sorry to see her name so much as was so unkindly used on account of his 
mentioned in such a riffraff bill," &c. — religion — being a decided Protestant — that 
JTarl. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 120. he soon returned to England, and purchased 



208 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



■which had fallen under his own observation while visiting some debtors in 
the Fleet and Marshalsea prisons, consisted of ninety-six persons, and Ogle- 



a seat called Westbrook Place, near the 
town of Godalming, in Surrey, whither he 
retired from the jealousies of courts and the 
toils of party strife. On this elegant estate 
James Oglethorpe was born, on the 21st of 
December, 1688, a year memorable for the 
revolution which gave to England that dem- 
ocratic bill of rights which has been justly 
styled "her second Magna Charta." He 
was the seventh in a family of nine children, 
most of whom became eminent for their 
station or service. At the age of sixteen, 
James was entered at Oxford University, 
and six years after was commissioned as 
ensign in the English army. He was early 
promoted, and early acquired a high reputa- 
tion in the art of war. In 1722 he was 
elected member of Parliament for Hazle- 
mere, the same borough which had been so 
long represented by his father, his brother 
Lewis, and his brother Thcophilus ; and for 
thirty-two years he was returned by success- 
ive elections to the House of Commons. 
During this period he was placed on impor- 
tant committees, and had much influence. 
He was distinguished for readily yielding 
his name, and influence, and fortune, to 
schemes of charity and philanthropy. 

It is an interesting fact in his history, 
that he lived to see his infant colony become 
a great and free state. Among the earliest 
to call on John Adams, the first ambassador 
of the United States to the court of St. 
James, was Oglethorpe. On the 22d of 
February, 1765, he was made general of all 
his majesty's forces, and for many years 
before he died was at the head of the army 
list as the oldest general officer of Great 
Britain. The assertion has been frequently 
made, though the authority is not conclu- 
sive, that, being the senior of Sir "William 
Howe, he had offered to liim the command 
of the forces destined to subjugate America 
in the war of the Revolution, but that he 
declined the appointment, assuring the 
ministry that *'he knew the Americans 
well; that they never would be subdued 



by arms, but that obedience would be 
secured by doing them justice." That his 
political sympathies were with the Ameri- 
cans, may be learned incidentally from the 
circumstance, that, on meeting in London 
with Governor Bernard, of Massachusetts, 
who had been most active in planning and 
executing " deep and studied affronts to 
that province," then struggling for civil 
rights and immunities, and whom the Amer- 
ican-hating court had honored with a baron- 
etcy for his services to regal tyranny, Ogle- 
thorpe personally expressed to him "the 
utmost disgust and abhorrence of his 
conduct." 

Though Oglethorpe Ijad his defects of 
character and his enemies, he did not go 
unhonored and undefended even in his own 
age. Poets such as Pope, and Thomson, 
and Goldsmith, and Brown, sung his 
praises ; moralists such as Johnson, the 
Abbe Raynal, Wharton, and Hannah More, 
testified to his virtues ; divines such as 
Wilson, Bishop of Sodor and Man, and 
Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, and Benson, 
and the Wesley s, did honor to his good- 
ness ; generals such as Prince Eugene, and 
the Duke of Marlborough and field marshal, 
acknowledged his abilities ; and statesmen 
such as the Duke of Argyle, and Lord Peter- 
borough, and Edmund Burke, lauded his 
distinguished merits. 

From the council-fires of the mountain 
Indians, from the lowly huts of the enfran- 
chised debtors in Savannah, from the cells 
of the prisons of England, from the fire- 
sides made cheerful by his bounty, rose a 
tribute to his worth more grateful to his 
soul than all the distinctions which royalty 
could confer or senates confirm. He died, 
of a sudden illness, at his seat, Cranham 
Hall, on the 30th of June, 1785, aged 
ninety-seven. — See History of Georgia, by 
Wm. B. Stevens, M. D., now Episcopal 
Bishop of Pa., Vol. i, a work of great 
ability and interest, and from Virhich most of 
these particulars are compiled. 



MISERIES OF ENGLAND. 209 

thorpe was made its chairman. A more honorable or effective committee 
could scarcelj' have been appointed. It embraced some of the first men in 
England, — among them thirty-eight noblemen, the Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer, the Master of Rolls, Admiral Yernon, and Field Marshal Wade. 
They entered upon their labors with zeal and diligence, and not onl}^ made 
inquiries through the Fleet prison, but also into the Marshalsea, the prison 
of the King's Bench, and the jail for the county of Surre}-. It was this 
committee which Thomson eulogized, in his poem of Winter, as 

* The generous band 
"Who, touched with human woe, redressivc searched 
Into the horrors of the gloomy gaol.' 

For in these abodes of crime and misfortune the}' beheld all that the poet 
had depicted : ' The freeborn Briton to the dungeon chained,' marked 'with 
inglorious stripes : ' the ' lean morsel snatched from the starving mouth ; * 
* the tattered weed torn from cold wintry limbs ; ' and ' lives crushed out by 
secret, barbarous waj'S, that for their country would have toiled' and bled.* 
Nor in this instance did the poetr}^ exceed the fact ; for one of her own 
authors has well said, ' No modern nation has ever enacted or inflicted 
greater legal severities upon insolvent debtors than England.* ' For the 
encouragement of that ready credit by which commercial enterprise is pro- 
moted, they armed the creditor of insolvent debtors with vindictive powers, 
by the exercise of which freeborn Englishmen, unconvicted of crime, were 
frequently subjected, in the metropolis of Britain, to a thraldom as vile and 
afflicting as the bondage of negro slaves in the West Indies.' This commit- 
tee, besides redressing the grievances connected with prison discipline, also 
reported a bill for the relief of insolvent debtors ; thus not onl}^ remed3ing 
present abuses, but preventing their recurrence, by legislative enactment.*' 

With philanthropic motives ranging bej^ond parliamentary dut}^, Ogle- 
thorpe, joined by Lord Percival and a few other noblemen and gentlemen, 
addressed a memorial to the Privy Council, stating " that the cities of Lon- 
don, Westminster, and parts adjacent, do abound with great numbers of 
indigent persons, who are reduced to such necessity as to become burden- 
some to the public, and who would be willing to seek a livelihood in any of 
his majesty's plantations in America, if they were provided with a passage, 
and means of settling there." The memorialists promised to take upon 
themselves the entire charge of this affair ; to erect a province into a proprie- 
tary government, provided the crown would grant them a portion of the 
land bought in 1729 by Parliament from the lords proprietors of South Car- 
olina, lying south of the Savannah river, together with such powers as shall 
enable them to receive the charitable contributions and benefactions of all 
such persons as are willing to encourage so good a design." 

A charter wa&- granted on the 9th of June, 1732, "giving to the- projeatfedi 
14 



210 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

colon}' the name of tlie monarch who had granted to them such a liberal 
territory for the development of their benevolence."^ 

This charter is marked by interesting peculiarities, and is worth}- of an 
attentive perusal. It is thus spoken of by Stevens : 

** By the provisions of this charter, which commenced with a recital of 
the causes which led to the proposed colonization, this body was entitled, for 
twent}'-one years, to all the legal rights an . immunities of a body corporate. 
They w^ere to meet yearly, on the third Thursday in the month of March, 
when new members were to be elected. They w'ere to have a common 
council, of fifteen members ; and when the members of the corporation w^ere 
increased, the common council was also to be augmented to twenty-four. 
The offices of president, of the trustees, and chairman of the board of com- 
mon council, were to be rotary by election. The members of the corporation 
were debarred from holding any office of profit, or receiving any salary, fees, 
perquisite or profit, wdiatsoever. They were authorized to take subscriptions 
and collect moneys ; and were required to lay, annually, before the chancel- 
lor, or speaker, or commissioners for the custody of the great seal of Great 
Britain, an account of all moneys and effects by them received or expended. 
They were empowered to make constitutions, laws and ordinances, for the 
government of their province ; to set, impose and inflict reasonable pains and 
penalties upon offenders. It granted to them ' all those lands, countries and 
territories situate, lying and being in that part of South Carolina, in Amer- 
ica,* between the Savannah and Altamaha ; and westerly, from the heads of 
the said rivers, respectively, in direct lines, to the Pacific, and the islands 
within twenty leagues of the coasts. It gave them permission to transport 
:and convey out of Great Britain into the said province of Georgia, to be 
'there settled, as many subjects, or foreigners willing to become subjects, as 
shall be willing to inhabit there. It also declared, that ' all and every the 
persons ' '• born within the said province, shall have and enjoy all liberties, 
franchises and immunities, of free denizens, as if abiding and born within 
Great Britain.* It also established and ordained that there shall be liberty 
of conscience allowed in the worship of God to all persons inhabiting, or who 
shall inhabit, or be resident within the province ; and that all such persons, 
except papists, shall have a free exercise of religion, so they be contented 
with the quiet and peaceable enjoyment of the same, not giving offence or 
scandal to the government. It was further provided, that no grant of land 
should to be made to any one of the corporation, or to any one in trust for any 



1 In the London Magazine for October, Kind o'er the rlsing'schemes an angel hung, 

,__„ xi_ ^ 11 • f ,,r\ ' • And dropped this counsel from his guardian tongue: 

173o, are the following lines, "On giving t^^^om. this way, the royal pair inclined? 

the name of Georgia to a pact :rff vCaro- To Caro««a be a Georgia joined ; 

^na."— Stevens' Georgia, p. 63. "^^^^ «^*^^ *^^^ colonies sure progress make, 

Endeared to either for the other's sake ; 

" While, ripening slow, the future purposeTlay, Georgia shall Carolina's favor move, 

.And conscious silence planned the opening way. And Carolina bloom by Georgia's love." 



CHARTER OF GEORGIA. 211 

member of the same ; and no grant of land to any other individual was to 
exceed five hundred acres. Thej were authorized, also, to establish judica- 
tories, courts of record, or other necessary courts, embracing all cases which 
could come within the limits of colonial judiciary, whether criminal or civil, 
capital or venial. It decreed, that no act of the common council or corpora- 
tion should be effectual and valid, unless eight members, including the chair- 
man, should be present. It permitted this board to appoint whatever magis- 
trates, civil or militar}', by land or sea, the province required, except such 
as were connected with the revenue department. It required them to defend 
the province b}^ all military means, both by sea and land, against either 
internal or external foes. It constituted the Grovernor of South Carolina chief 
commander of the Georgia militia ; and, finally, declared that at the expira- 
tion of twenty-one 3-ears, such a government should be established as should 
then be judged best, in which the governor, and all officers, civil and mili- 
tar}', should be nominated and appointed by the king. 

" This was the great legal instrument which lay at the political foundation 
of Georgia. Its provisions were commensurate with its design, and its priv- 
ileges were as ample as the benevolence which called it into being. It gave 
to those over whom it stretched its fostering care the privileges of freeborn 
Britons — the privileges of English law, and, with one exception, the privi- 
leges of religious libert3\ Nor was this exception the result so much of 
England's Protestantism as England's politics. It was but transferring to 
the charter of Georgia some of the civil disabilities which then la}^ upon 
Romanists in the mother countrj^, — disabilities growing out of civil rather 
than ecclesiastical relations. The exception was wrong in the abstract ; but, 
interposing itself as Georgia did between the Protestant colonies on the 
north, and the French and Spanish possessions on the south, it was deter- 
mined to draw around it such ecclesiastical cordon as should efi'ectually 
prevent any Romish intrigues or ascendency in a colony thus singularly 
situated. 

" The charter revealed two purposes as the object of this colonization — 
the settling of poor but unfortunate people on lands now waste and des- 
olate ; and the interposing of this colony as a barrier between the northern 
colonies and the French, Spanish and Indians, on the south and west." 

The movement of Oglethorpe and his associates was of so extraordinary a 
nature that the reader will readily understand the importance of a full 
knowledge of their motives, and of the means b}' which they proposed to 
accomplish their beneficent as well as their national ends. Their purposes 
were of a democratic nature, — but their plans of operation were either too 
great or too small to harmonize, and their principles either too partial or 
too conservative for progress. 

" But," continues the same able writer, " the colony was not to be con- 
fined to the poor and unfortunate. The trustees granted portions of five 



212 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

hundred acres to such as went over at their own expense, on condition that 
the}' carried over one servant to every fifty acres, and did military service in 
time of war or alarm. Thus the materials of the new colony consisted of 
three classes ; the upper, or large landed proprietors and officers, — the middle, 
or freeholders, sent over by the trustees, and the servants indented to that 
corporation or to private individuals. 

" Subsidiary' to the great design of philanthropy was the further purpose of 
making Georgia a silk, wine, oil, and drug growing colony. ' Lying,* as the 
trustees remark, ' about the same latitude with part of China, Persia, Pales- 
tine, and the Madeiras, it is highly probable that when hereafter it shall be 
well peopled and rightl}^ cultivated, England may be supplied from thence 
with raw silk, wine, oil, dyes, drugs, and man}^ other materials for manufac- 
tures, which she is obliged to purchase from southern countries.' The 
secretary of the trustees, in his official account of the ' Reasons for Estab- 
lishing the Colony of Georgia,' says : ' The Italian, French, Dutch, Indian, 
and China silks, imported, thrown and wrought only (including what are 
clandestinely run), may, on the most moderate computation, be reckoned to 
cost us five hundred thousand pounds per annum ; which may all be saved 
by raising the raw silk in Georgia, and afterwards working it up here, now 
we have attained the arts of making raw silk into organzine, and preparing 
it for our weavers, who can weave it into all sorts of wrought silks in as 
great perfection as any nation of the world ; so that we only want the staple 
(or raw silk) and to have it at a reasonable rate. With this Georgia will 
abundantly supply us, if we are not wanting to ourselves, and do not neglect 
the opportunity which Providence has thrown into our hands. The saving 
this five hundred thousand pounds per annum is not all ; but our supplying 
ourselves with raw silk from Georgia carries this further advantage along 
with it, that it will provide a new or additional employment for at least 
twenty thousand people in Georgia for about four months in the year, during 
the silk season, and at least twenty thousand more of our poor here, all the 
year round, in working the raw silk, and preparing such manufactures as 
we send in return, or to purchase the said raw silk in Georgia, to which 
country our merchants will trade to much greater advantage than they can 
expect to do in Italy ; and yet the exportation to this place will (as I said 
before) be,, in all probabilitj-, preserved.' 

" Oglethoi-pe,. also, in his ' New and Accurate Account,' writes, ' We shall 
be their market for great quantities of raw silk ; perhaps for wine, oil, cotton, 
drugs, dyeing stuffs, and many other lesser commodities. They have already 
tried the vine and the silk-worm, and have all imaginable encouragement to 
expect that these will prove most valuable staple commodities to them. The 
raw silk which Great Britain and Ireland are able to consume will employ 
forty or fift}^ thousand persons in that country. Nor need they be the 
strongest or most industrious part of mankind : it must be a weak hand 



EXPECTATIONS OF OGLETHORPE. 213 

indeed that cannot earn bread where silk-worms and white mulberry-trees 
are so plent}'. The present medium of our importation of silk will not be 
the measure hereafter of that branch of trade, when the Georgians shall enter 
into the management of tlie silk-worm. Great Britain will then be able to 
sell silk manufactures cheaper than all Europe besides ; because the Geor- 
gians may grow rich, and yet afford their raw silk for less than half the 
price that we now pay for that of Piedmont. The peasant of Piedmont, 
after he has tended the worm and wound off the silk, pays half of it 
for the rent of the mulberry-trees and the eggs of the silk-worm ; but in 
Georgia the working hand w ill have the benefit of all his labor. This is fifty 
in a hundred, or cent, per cent., difference in favor of the Georgians ; which 
receives a great addition from another consideration, namely, the Georgian 
will have his provisions incomparably cheaper than the Piedmontese, because 
he paj^s no rent for the land that produces them — he lives upon his own 
estate. But there is still another reason why Great Britain should quickly 
and effectually encourage the production of silk in Georgia, — for, in effect, it 
will cost us nothing : it will be purchased by the several manufacturers of 
Great Britain, and this, I fear, is not our present case with respect to Pied- 
mont, especially if (as we have been lately told) they have prohibited the 
importation of woollen goods in that principality.' 

" Wine was to be raised in sufficient quantities, not only for part of our 
consumption at home, but also for the supply of our other plantations, 
instead of our going to Madeira for it. Flax, hemp and potashes, were to be 
produced in such abundance that the balance of trade with Russia was to be 
reduced one hundred and thirty thousand pounds ; and indigo, cochineal, 
olives, dyeing woods, and drugs of various kinds, were to be as abundant as 
the demand for their consumption. 

" Incident to their primary design was the expectation of thereby reliev- 
ing the mother country of a body of indigent paupers and unfortunate debt- 
ors. It was argued, that these people were not only unprofitable, but abso- 
lutel}' an expense to the government ; that their detention in England was a 
ph3^sical, moral and pecuniary loss to the nation ; while their emigration to 
America not only freed the countrj' from those who would otherwise be 
burdensome to its charities, but made them profitable to themselves, to 
Georgia, and to England itself ; and Livy was quoted, to show that the 
Romans often sent some of their citizens abroad for the very increase of her 
power. 

" Thus, the poor-rates were to be reduced, the parishes relieved, the work- 
houses emptied, the debtors* prisons thrown open, and even the population 
of the kingdom advanced, b}^ the plantation of Georgia. 

" The extension of Christianity was another aim which they kept in view. 
They reasoned, that the good discipline established by the society would 
reform the manners of those miserable objects who should be by them sub- 



2l4 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

sisted ; and tlie example of a whole colony, who should behave in a just, 
moral and religious manner, would contribute greatly towards the conversion 
of the Indians, and taking off the prejudices received from the profligate 
lives of such as have scarcely anythmg of Christianity but the name. 

" Such were the principal purposes of the trustees in settling Georgia. 
Extravagance was their common characteristic ; for, in the excited visions of 
its enthusiastic friends, Georgia was not only to rival Virginia and South 
Carolina, but to take the first rank in the list of provinces depending on the 
British crown. Neither the El Dorado of Raleigh nor the Utopia of More 
could compare with the garden of Georgia ; and the poet, the statesman and 
the divine, lauded its beauties, and prophesied its future greatness." 

" The trustees having selected from the throng of emigrants thirty-five 
families, numbering in all about one hundred and twenty-five * sober, indus- 
trious and moral persons,' chartered the Ann, a galley of two hundred tons, 
Capt. John Thomas, and stationed her at Deptford, four miles below Lon- 
don, to receive her cargo and passengers. 

" On the 16th November, 1732, they were visited by the trustees 'to see 
nothing was wanting, and to take leave ' of Oglethorpe ; and, having called 
the families separately before them in the great cabin, they inquired if they 
liked their usage and voj'age, or if they had rather return, giving them even 
then the alternative of remaining in England, if they preferred it ; and, 
having found but one man who (on account of his wife, left sick in South- 
wark) declined, they bid Oglethorpe and the emigrants an affectionate fare- 
well." The ship sailed the next day, from Gravesend, bound for the 
continent of America. 

It would be interesting and even profitable to follow the exciting events in 
detail w^hich attended the early settlement of Georgia. To rejoice with the 
Israelite in his confidence that charity was about to end his wanderings ;^ to 
join the holy procession of the pious Salzburgers, and unite with them in 
their hj'mns of praise -^ to dwell upon the spirit of the Puritans, who sought 
the land of good-will to establish it with their faith, and to cheer it with the 
blessings of Democracy ;^ to sympathize with the sufferers from Acadia, and 



1 Among the early emigrants to Georgia He did not respond to a request so discord- 

Arere forty Jews, direct from London, who ant to the spirit of charity; "for to have 

were sent out by authorized agents of the done so," says Stevens, "would have been 

company, as consistent with the provisions to strip the colony of its most moral, worthy 

of the charter, which gave freedom to all and industrious citizens." 

religions except that of the Church of Rome. ^ See Stevens, p. 105. 

The trustees expressed fears lest the public 3 When missionaries were wanted, at an 

might suppose that they designed to " make early period, in South Carolina, Joseph 

a Jews' colony of Georgia." They desired Lord, "who was then teaching school in 

Oglethorpe " to use his endeavors to pre- Dorchester, Mass., offered to go thither; 

vent their settling with any of the grantees." and on the 22d of October, 1695, those 



RESULTS OF COLONIAL EXPERIMENT. 215 

to witness their dispersion by a religious zeal that recognized no charit}' ; 
to accompany the benevolent trustees in their visits of love to German}-, to 
relieve the persecuted Protestant, — and to the highlands of Scotland, that 
they might secure a bold and hardy race, and withal a virtuous and indus- 
trious people ; to mark the throbbings of the mighty heart of humanity in 
the countless deeds of patient charity w^hich from the confines of civilization 
seemed to centre in this great scheme of benevolence,— but these are beyond 
the limits of the present work. 

It will be remembered that " the design of the trustees comprised three 
points : to provide an as3-lum for the poor debtor and persecuted Protestant, 
to erect a silk, wine and drug growing colon}' ; and to relieve the mother 
country of an overburdened population." " It was not long, however, before 
their credulity was chastened into soberness by a series of disastrous calam- 
ities. The noble feature of benevolence was never indeed relinquished, even 
though the recipients proved unworthy of the bounty ; for, as early as 1735, 
the trustees declared that ' many of the poor, who had been useless in Eng- 
land, were inclined to be useless also in Georgia.' And, though a strict 
scrutiny was made into the character and condition of each emigrant, most 
of the early settlers were altogether unworthy of the assistance they received. 
Once in Georgia, they were disappointed in the quality and fertility of the 
lands ; were unwilling to labor ; hung for support upon the trustees' store ; 
were clamorous for privileges to which they had no right ; and fomented 
discontent and faction, w^here it was hoped they would have lived together in 
brotherly peace and charity. The benevolence of the trustees met no ade- 
quate return of gratitude ; and their labors for the welfare of the colony only 
provoked the obloquy and murmurs of those for whom had been opened the 
prison-doors of England, and to whom had been granted an asylum in 
Georgia. The too sanguine hopes of the trustees as to the commercial value 
of the colony were also destined to disappointment. The wine which was to 
supply all the plantations, and to cultivate which they had emplojxd a vigne- 
ron from Portugal, and planted in their garden the choicest cuttings from 
Madeira, resulted in only a few gallons, and was then abandoned. The 



designing to emigrate with him were embod- when a majority of the members decided to 

ied in a church, over which he was solemn- remove to Georgia. "The accession of 

ly consecrated pastor. The churches of such a people," says Stevens, "was an- 

Boston, Milton, Newton, Charlestown and honor to Georgia, and has ever proved one 

Roxbury, by their delegates or pastors, as- of its richest blessings. The sons of that-^ 

sisted in the services. Sixty years before, colony have shown themselves worthy of 

Dorchester had planted the first church in its sires ; their sires were the moral and 

Connecticut; and now she had gathered intellectual nobility of the province." They 

another, to send to the far distant bor- carried with them their New England habits, 

ders of the south." This church contin- and established in Georgia the institutions 

ued and prospered in Carolina until 1752, of Democracy. — See Stevens, p. 386. 



216 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

drugs and exotics, which, at a great expense, they had procured and planted 
in the same place ; the olive trees from Venice, barilla-seed from Spain, 
the kali from Eg3'pt, the cubebs cardimas, the caper plant, the madder 
root, and other like articles, — were mostly destroyed by the snow and frost 
shortly after they were planted. The hemp and flax, which were to sustain 
the linen manufactures of Great Britain, and throw the balance of trade 
with Russia into England's favor, never came to a single ship-load ; and 
indigo, though there were one or two plantations of it near St. Simons and 
on the Altamaha, was never generally introduced, and its culture soon 
abandoned." 

In respect to the success which attended their persevering efforts to pro- 
duce silks, Stevens says : " At an expense, including passages of servants, 
provisions from the public store, bounty on cocoons, salaries, machines, basins, 
and filatures, of nearty fifteen hundred pounds, the trustees had succeeded 
in raising, up to the date of their surrender of the charter, not one thousand 
pounds of raw silk, — a most costly experiment for so poor a colony, show- 
ing the airiness of that dream in which they expected to save five hundred 
thousand pounds to England, and employ forty thousand of her subjects. 
' They looked for much, and, lo ! it came to little.* 

" Nor were they more fortunate in relieving the mother country of her 
surplus indigent population. They did not, it is true, entertain the extrava- 
gant speculations of the Earl of Eglinton, who subsequently proposed to the 
king to introduce a hundred thousand settlers into Georgia and the Florid as, 
but they expected soon to locate twenty thousand persons in their territory, 
and build it up at once into a great commercial colony. It was estimated at 
the time, that, at a very small calculation, four thousand individuals were 
annuall}^ imprisoned for debt in England ; and, though the scheme looked 
directly to the melioration and relief of this unfortunate class, yet what a 
paltry result, compared with such magnificent promises ! 

" During the first eight years, the trustees sent over on their bounty only 
nine hundred and fifteen British subjects ; and the entire number transplant- 
ed to Georgia by their benefactions during their corporate existence did 
not exceed twelve hundred British, and one thousand foreign Protestants ; 
and yet, in this time, they had received from private benefactions over 
seventeen thousand six hundred pounds, and from parliamentary grants over 
one hundred and thirty-six thousand six hundred pounds. Of those sent 
over by the charit}- of the trustees, two-thirds left the colony, and but a very 
few proved worthy of their benefactions. Thus, one by one, all the grand 
hopes of the trustees came to naught, everj^ high expectation was laid low, 
and they were taught, by a dear-bought experience, that, however easy it 
was to plan a colony, it was quite another thing to carry it out into success- 
ful execution. 

" But not onl}^ were the trustees destined to behold the blasting of their 



SURRENDER OF CHARTER. 217 

agricultural and commercial views ; thej were also made to feci the ill effects 
of their well-designed but badlj^-adjusted scheme of colonial legislation. 
They began wi'ong, when they resolved to make the tenure of their lands a 
grant in tail male. Instead of stepping forth in advance of their age, as 
they might have done, they retired behind it, going back to the middle ages, 
to feudal times, and drew thence, from the laws of the Salian Franks, this 
rule, as repugnant to reason as to justice." 

As the period of the charter was about to expire, the trustees made 
arrangements that it might be surrendered with proper care and delibera- 
tion. A committee of twelve persons was appointed by the common council 
of the trustees, on the 25th of April, 1751, at the head of whom was the 
Earl of Shaftesbury, "to adjust with tlie administration the proper means 
for supporting and settling the colony for the future, and to take from time 
to time all such measures as they shall find necessar^^ for its well-being.'* 
The surrender took place on the 23d of June, 1752 ; " and the corporation 
which had planted and nurtured Georgia ceased to exist." ^ 

When Oglethorpe was moved by the generous sympathies of humanit}- to 
take the prisoner by the hand, to lift up the fallen, to encourage the sad, to 
give joy to the desperate, to sustain the persecuted and the oppressed, and 
conceived the practicability of establishing a colony of such wounded spirits 
in the wilds of America, and had a confidence in the goodness and generosity 
of men to the remarkable extent that they would furnish the means for so 
noble a project, — he doubtless deemed the nature of the cause a sufficient 
guarantee of its success, and that he would be sustained by a community 
impressed by the grandeur of his motives, to be continually renewed by the 
redeeming power of gratitude. Their motto, on one side of their corpora- 
tion seal, — " JVbn sibi sed aliis" — "Not for themselves, but others," — 
expressed a beautiful truth and a fatal error. Not to include themselves, 
was a striking defect in so great a plan. On the other side of the seal were 
represented two figures reposing on urns, — emblematic of the boundary 
rivers, — having between them the genius of " Georgia Augusta," with a cap 
of libert}^ on her head, a spear in one hand, the horn of plent}^ in the other. 
" But the cap of liberty was, for a time at least," saj^s Bancroft, " a false 
emblem ; for all executive and legislative power, and the institution of 
courts, were, for twenty-one years, given exclusively to the trustees, or their 
common council, who were appointed during good behavior." 

The errors of the trustees have been denominated as those of " parsimo- 
nious benevolence." But this view mistakes sentiment for judgment. It 
was their benevolence that opened so many avenues to the enduring streams 
of charity, — but it was their judgment that failed to distinguish between a 
condition of success and a remedy for failure. Their desire to serve others 

1 Bishop Stevens, p. 258. 



21 S HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

was surpassed only hy the firmness of tlieir convictions of confidence in 
themselves. B}- extending a generous spirit to those who had proved them- 
selves wanting in judgment, they were doubtless impressed with the neces- 
sit}' of a prudent control. 

The subjects of Oglethorpe's benevolence had passed through a large por- 
tion of the period of human existence, and had been prostrated. They had 
arrived at positions in society which either proved the want of capacity or 
the want of integrit}'. If honest, they were schismatics, or unfortunate 
men. If incapable, charit}^ could aid them, but benevolence could not give 
them capacity. If dishonest, benevolence could cheer them in a temporary 
resolution, but could not give them integrit}'. If schismatical, charity could 
clothe the naked and feed the hungry, but benevolence could neither repress 
the opinions of the wilful, nor calm the impulsive and conflicting passions 
of the fanatical. The unfortunate could doubtless be rallied by the tender 
encouragements of good will ; and unquestionably some of every class would 
exert themselves to the utmost in whatever promised success, — but what 
could be expected from an aggregation of feebleness, and from the discordant 
elements of every variety of failure, but results that such a combination is 
calculated to produce ? With what significance may the question often be 
asked, " Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" 

What though some might still bring into action motives that had never 
been corrupted, combined with improved dispositions, renewed resolutions 
fortified by prudence and strengthened by example, — A'ct each would be 
loaded with his neighbor's defect or weakness, and the many that could not 
succeed at home, in a much stronger framework of society, as individuals, 
would fall, almost of necessitj^, when brought together in an atmosphere of 
endeavor so inferior -to the one which they had left. 

It is true that Oglethorpe joined with his motives of benevolence the 
objects of industry, — but one would have supposed that he could not avoid 
seeing that men, who had not even succeeded in taking care of themselves, 
would hardly be able to reach that point for the first time under circum- 
stances so peculiar, and to travel be3'ond it to such an extent as to add 
wealth to the nation. It is quite true, he bad counted, and not without 
reason, upon the cooperation of the best and ablest minds, everywhere, to 
aid him in the great work of reformation, and in the business of elevating or 
reestablishing character, — but he began with an element of mistrust, by 
proposing an end which fell short of the dignit}^ of man, and based his ex- 
periment upon conditional results. He neither promised the privileges of 
citizenship nor the responsibilities of legislation. His charit}' addressed his 
subjects as men, but his judgment disposed of them as paupers, or as objects 
of commiseration. A stream will not flow that has not an open outlet that 
tends to the bosom of its home ; nor will the best influences of society 
recover a degi-aded man, when they do not tend to give him entire freedom 



THE SETTLEMENT OF MARYLAND. 



219 



in all that constitutes a proper self-respect, and in all that shall recognize 
in him a member of society fitted for its duties and made eligible to its 
honors. 

If the benevolence of Oglethorpe failed as the leading element of enter- 
prise, it succeeded in teaching the great truth, that humanity has the benefit 
of generous projects as well as of selfish ones. And that, while avarice, 
with its mistakes and excesses, may hasten the accumulation of wealth, 
benevolence may have its share of error in opening patriotic avenues for its 
disbursements. The propensity to acquire does nothing but accumulate ; 
benevolence extends and distributes. In the single action of either, excess 
is the result. "What is true of these powers is true of all the others ; and, to 
repeat a remark which has already been made, and which cannot be too con- 
stantly regarded, success is a result which comes from the activity of all the 
faculties in harmony with their objects and with one another. 

MARYLAND.i 

The settlement of Maryland presents a variet}^ of facts, so different in 
character, compared to those of the other colonies, that the reader will be 



^ The first settlement of Maryland was 
made by Captain William Clayborne, 1631, 
with a party of men from Virginia, on Kent 
Island, in Chesapeake Bay. But the charter 
under which the colony was permanently 
established was granted to Cecilius Calvert, 
second Lord Baltimore, by Charles I., and 
was dated June 20th, 1632. The province 
covered by this grant had been partially 
explored by Sir George Calvert, the father 
of Cecilius, four years before. It was 
named in the charter Terra Mariae,— Mary's 
Land,— in honor of the Queen Henrietta 
Maria. In 1635 the first legislative assem- 
bly was organized, composed of one house ; 
but, in 1639, was divided into two branches, 
or rather species of representation, namely, 
burgesses elected by the people, and the 
other called by special writ. "When con- 
vened, they sat in one chamber. In 1650 
the legislature was divided into two houses. 
On the death of Charles I., the Puritans of 
Maryland insisted upon an immediate recog- 
nition of the Commonwealth. The authori- 
ties, however, representing the Lord Pro- 
prietary, proclaimed Charles II. the rightful 
sovereign of England. But the Puritans 



had a majority in the assembly. In 1652 
commissioners from England visited Mary- 
land, removed Gov. Stone, the representa- 
tive of Lord Baltimore, and completely 
established the authority of the Common- 
wealth. In 1654-5, Lord Baltimore made 
repeated efforts to restore the proprietary 
government. After three years of civil 
commotion, during the most of which time 
the Puritan party governed the colony, the 
power of the proprietary was restored. 

In 1660, twenty-six years from the foun- 
dation of the colony, the population of 
Maryland was 12,000, in 1665, 16,000 ; and 
in 1671 it had increased to 20,000. 

At the time of the Revolution in England, 
1688, the government, by the desire of the 
Puritans, was assumed by King William; 
and, in 1691, Sir Lionel Copley was ap- 
pointed governor. In 1715 the government 
Was restored to the family of the proprie- 
tary, having been administered by the gov- 
ernors holding under the king's appoint- 
ment twenty-four years. At this period the 
population was estimated at 40,000. The 
prosperity of Maryland was checked by the 
almost exclusive occupation of the farmers 



220 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



ampl}' compensated by stud3ing its particular histor3\^ The intolerance of 
Virginia gave birth to Maryland.^ The charter recognized a representative 



and planters in raising tobacco, to the 
neglect of more important crops for food. 
In 1694 and 1695 a destructive disease broke 
out among the stock of the farmers, and 
25,429 cattle and 62,375 hogs perished. 

In 1714 Charles Lord Baltimore, the 
liereditary proprietary, died at the age of 
eighty-four. His son, Benedict Leonard 
Calvert, succeeded, but lived only long 
enough to have his rights acknowledged. 
He died in April, 1715. The principal 
obstacle to the recognition of the claim of 
this family was now removed ; for the com- 
plaints on which it had been deprived of 
the government in 1691 were, many of them, 
founded in the fact that the proprietary was 
a Papist, and the young heir, upon whom 
the titles and possessions of the Lords Bal- 
timore devolved, had been educated a 
Protestant. In 1715, therefore, the author- 
ity of the proprietary was restored. From 
tliis period until the breaking out of the 
Trench War, in 1753, the history of Mary- 
land is not marked by any great event. Its 
local annals are filled with relations of the 
disputes and contentions which took place 
between the proprietary and the people ; the 
one struggling to maintain or extend his 
hereditary and prescriptive privileges, and 
the other to establish their liberties, to con- 
firm their ancient rights, or to acquire new 
ones. In all these struggles are discerni - 
ble the germs of the revolution of 1776. — 
See History and Statistics of 3Iari/land, 
hy J. C. G. Kennedy^ Sup. of the Census. 

1 Read Bancroft, Chalmers, Bozman, 
Hildreth, Kennedy's Discourse on the Life 
and Character of George Calvert, &c. ; 
Streeter's Discourse, "Maryland Two 
Hundred Years Ago." 1852. 

2 In 1G21 Sir George Calvert obtained a 
grant from King James of that part of the 
island of Newfoundland which lies between 
the Bay of Bulls on the east coast thereof, 
and Cape St. Mary's on the south, which 
was erected into a province, and called 
Avalon. Here he commenced a settlement, 



erected granaries and store-houses, and in 
1622 set up a salt-work. In 1625 he visited 
in person the colony. A residence there 
soon satisfied him that the country was not 
eligible for colonization. He expended on 
this settlement twenty-five thousand pounds. 
As he doubtless had received full informa- 
tion in regard to the colony of Virginia, and 
favorable accounts of the climate and soil 
of the country bordering on Chesapeake, he 
was induced, in 1628, to visit that colony 
in search of some more desirable situation. 
Whether a jealousy of his colonial views, 
or those general prejudices against the 
Papists, which were now more prevalent 
than ever, even in the mother country, 
operated with the Virginians, his visit was 
received by them most ungraciously. What 
renders this reception of him somewhat 
more surprising is, that the colonists of 
Virginia had not emigrated from England 
to evade religious persecution. The Church 
of England was then the established religion 
in Virginia, and Puritanism had not been 
hitherto encouraged among them. It is 
true that those in England who were denom- 
inated high churchman, as Archbishop Laud 
and others, were accused by the Puritans of 
being inclined to Popery, but it is to be 
remembered that Charles professed to be 
alike opposed to Popery and Puritanism. 

Immediately on the arrival of Lord Bal- 
timore in Virginia, the assembly of that 
province caused the oaths of allegiance and 
supremacy to be tendered to him and his 
followers. He rejected them; proposing, 
however, at the same time, a form of oath 
which he declared himself ready to accept. 
As these oaths were prescribed by particu- 
lar statutes, it was not in the power of the 
assembly to dispense with them after being 
tendered. In this state matters rested, the 
assembly contenting itself with laying the 
whole transaction before the privy council 
in England. 

This incident would seem to show that 
the assembly did not look upon Lord Balti- 



VIEWS AND POLICY OF CALVERT. 221 

government,^ and conceded poi^ular liberty and religious freedom. Sir 



more in the light of a mere casual visitor. 
They subjected him to what amounted 
almost to an indignity, in requiring him to 
take the oaths, who had been secretary of 
state, who was one of their own patentees 
in the London Company, and who was a 
public-spirited nobleman, somewhat distin- 
guished for his enterprise in the cause of 
colonization; who, in addition to all this, 
was on the best terms with the reigning sov- 
ereign at home. He very soon afterwards 
departed from the James river, to pursue a 
much more agreeable voyage up the Chesa- 
peake. Under these circumstances he 
entered the Potomac, examined the country 
upon its left bank, and projected the settle- 
ment of Maryland. — See Bozman, p. 231, 
Historical Discourse of Kennedy, 19, 20. 

A more recent author alludes to the arriv- 
al and reception of Lord Baltimore in 
Virginia, with a different judgment. He 
says : 

" The arrival of a visitor so distinguished 
caused some excitement at James City ; and 
the authorities inquired why he, the gover- 
nor of another colony, had abandoned that 
and come to theirs. ' To seek a plantation 
and a dwelling-place among you,' was liis 
lordship's reply. ' Very wHiingly,' answer- 
ed they, ' provided you will take the oaths 
of allegiance and supremacy, as we have 
done, and which we are obliged, by the 
royal order, to exact from every person 
who becomes a member of this colony.' A 
modified form of the oath was proposed by 
him, as one which his obligations as a Cath- 
olic would allow him to take ; but the gov- 
ernor and council, moved, without doubt, 
by that jealousy of Catholicism which was 
felt by the colonists, as well as by the 
people of the mother country (though pro- 
fessing to act solely upon the royal instruc- 
tions), declined to admit into their com- 
munity a man, however distinguished, ' who 
was unwilling to acknowledge all the emi- 
nences belonging to his majesty,' and 
prayed him to make provision to depart 
from the colony by the next ship that 
sailed for England. He complied with their 



request ; but not before he had examined 
the broad bay of ' Chesapiack,' the islands 
that stud its surface, the beautiful rivers 
which flow into it, especially from the west, 
and the rich, inviting country, which, 
almost without an inhabitant, except a few 
savage tribes, spread out upon its borders. 

" From this remark must be excepted, 
however, a large island in the bay, on 
which Capt. "William Clayborne, a member 
of the Council of Virginia, and a man of 
great energy and untiring enterprise, had 
established a trading settlement, and to which 
he had given the name of Kent; as also 
an island in the mouth of the Susquehanna 
river, on which he had placed an advance 
post to facilitate his trading operations, — 
both of which he had purchased of the native 
chiefs, besides taking up lands upon each, 
according to the custom of the country at 
that period. 

" Leaving his lady and servants behind, 
Lord Baltimore proceeded to England, 
hoping that, by personal appeal, the king 
might be induced to relax in his favor the 
regulation in regard to emigrants in Vir- 
ginia, and accept of a modified form of 
oath ; but he was disappointed. His appli- 
cation was ineffectual, and he found him- 
self under the necessity of fitting out a 
a vessel (February, 1630), and sending her 
to Virginia, to convey his lady and servants 
to England." — Maryland Two Hundred 
Years Ago," hy S. F. Streeter, p. 11, 12. 

1 Although Charles I. had, but a few 
years before he granted the charter of 
Maryland to Lord Baltimore, dissolved his 
Parliament, and had at that time formed the 
resolution, as some historians allege, of 
never calling another, and of governing 
without them, yet a very strong provision is 
to be found in that instrument for a free 
government, — a representative legislature. 
See the 7th section. But in the 8th sec- 
tion a clause is inserted which, by a latitude 
of construction, might be interpreted to 
give powers repugnant to the conditions of 
the preceding section. — See Bozman^ Vol. 
I, p. 289-. 



222 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



George Calvert^ was a Catholic, a statesman of comprehensive views, and 
versed in the changing motives of men and of governments. He antici- 
pated the claims of prerogative and of freedom, and endeavored to provide 
for them in advance. Actuated by the Christian spirit of disarming the 
Protestant by concession, he was tolerant in his plans, and liberal in his 
views of policy. His theory for a government in America was in advance 
of his own expressed views and practice at home.^ He secured from his 
ro3'al master the recognition of Democracy without pledging himself to its 
principles, and framed a government which, while it promised freedom to 



1 According to Anthony Wood, in his 
Athenge Oxonienses, Calvert was born in 
1582, at Kipling, in the Chapelry of Bolton, 
in Yorkshire, and was the son of Leonard 
Calvert and Alice, daughter of John Cross- 
land. Some date his birth in the year 1580. 
The family of Calvert is said to be descend- 
ed from an ancient and noble house of that 
name in the Earldom of Flanders, whence 
they were transplanted into the northern 
parts of England. The family was one of 
wealth. In 1597 Calvert took a Bachelor's 
degree at Oxford, and then visited the con- 
tinent of Europe to complete his studies. 
Sir Robert Cecil, the Lord Treasurer, after- 
wards Earl of Salisbury, early became his 
friend. About the year 1604-5, he married 
Anne, the daughter of George Mynne, of 
Hertfordsliire, and grand- daughter of Sir 
Thomas Wroth, of Durance, in Enfield, 
Middlesex. His eldest son, born in 1606, 
was named for his distinguished friend. Sir 
Robert Cecil. About the year 1606 he was 
appointed private secretary to the prime 
minister, an office which he held for several 
years. In 1609 his name appears as one of 
the patentees in the new charter which was 
then given to the company for planting Vir- 
ginia; and, in 1620, it is again enumerated 
in Captain Smith's Ust of members. 

The Earl of SaUsbury died in 1612; after 
which event Calvert seems to have enjoyed 
a liberal share of the favor and regard of 
King James, who, in 1617, promoted him to 
the post of clerk of the privy council, and 
invested him with the honor of knighthood. 
In 1619 he was appointed principal secretary 
of state, which place he held until 1624, 
when he resigned it, according to Fuller, 



for the following reason : "He freely con- 
fessed himself to the king that he was then 
become a Roman Catholic, so that he must 
be wanting to his trust, or violate his con- 
science, in discharging his office. This, his 
ingenuity," adds Fuller, " so highly affected 
King James, that he continued him privy 
councillor, all his reign, as appeareth in his 
council-books, and soon after created him 
Lord Baltimore, of Baltimore in Ireland." 
Chalmers says he was officially one of the 
committee of council for the affairs of the 
plantations. — See Kennedy's Discourse. 

2 In politics Sir George Calvert was of the 
court party (in the reigns of James I. and 
Charles I.), opposed to the country party, — 
designations which were changed in the 
reign of Charles 11. to Tory and Whig. As 
one of this party, he was the advocate of 
the high kingly prerogative, as contradis- 
tinguished from the privilege of the legis- 
lative body, — a champion of executive 
power against the power of Parliament. 
Graham says of him, that " he was a stren- 
uous assertor of the supremacy of that 
authority from the exercise of which he 
expected to derive his own enrichment." 
"And, as principal manager of the interest 
of the court," says Chalmers, "we have 
heard him opposing the bill for a free fish- 
ing, because supposed contrary to the royal 
authority; and insisting, with that confi- 
dence which conviction always inspires, 
that the American territory, being gotten by 
conquest, ought to be governed by preroga- 
tive as the king pleases." — Book, Vol. i, p. 
201. See Kennedy's Hist. Discourse f 
p. 22. 



CnAKTER OF MAKYLAND. 223 

the people, reserved the power of control to its officers.^ But he was not 
destined to witness the results of a charter which authorized a freedom so 
independent of the crown. He died " before a patent could be finally 
adjusted and pass the seals/' and his son, Cecil Calvert, succeeded to his 
honors and fortunes.^ 

" Whatever were the real causes," says Chalmers. " which procured this 
remarkable grant, the ostensible motives were declared to be ' a laudable zeal 
for extending the Christian religion and the territories of the empire.* The 
son was heir of his father's intentions, as well as fortunes ; and in June, 
1632, the charter of Marjdand was confirmed by the king, and Cecil was 
created absolute proprietary', saving the allegiance and sovereign dominion 
due to the crown. He was empowered, with assent of the freemen, or their 
delegates, whom he was required to assemble for that purpose, to make laws 
of what kind soever for the province, ' so that they be not repugnant but 
agreeable to the jurisprudence and rights of the realm of England.' He was 
the authorized executive of the assembly. Power was given to the proprie- 
tary, with the assent of the people, to impose subsidies there, upon just 
cause and in due proportion, which were granted to him forever : and 
there was a covenant on the part of Charles, that neither he nor his suc- 
cessors should at any time impose, or cause to be imposed, an}' tallages on 
the colonists, or their goods and tenements, or on their commodities, to be 
laden within the province. Thus was conferred on Maryland that exemp- 
tion forever, which had been granted to other colonies for jxars. This 
region was erected into a palatinate, and the proprietary^ was invested with 
all the yojrI rights of the palace, as full}' as any Bishop of Durham had 
ever enjoyed." He was authorized to appoint oflficers, repel invasions, sup- 
press rebellions, and to erect forts ; but with an express saving of that 
right, which the commons had so long contended for, of fishing within 
the various bays, harbors and creeks, of the province. And, what appeared 
to be an act of extraordinar}" condescension on the part of his majest}-, the 
charter finally provided that, should any doubts arise concerning the true 
meaning of it, such an interpretation should be made which most favored the 
proprietary, and was not inconsistent with allegiance due to the crown, or the 
demands of the Christian religion. There was no condition in the charter 
which required " the proprietary^ to transmit the acts of the assembl}' to the 
king, for approbation or dissent ; " nor an}' saving of the royal interference in 
the government of the province. These essential omissions induced the 
commissioners of plantations to represent to the commons, in 1733, " that 
Marjdand is under no obligation, by its constitution, to return authentic 
copies of its laws to the sovereign for confirmation, or disallowance ; or to 
give an}' account of its proceedings." "Nothing can aiford more decisive 

1 Chalmers, p. 201. 2 Bancroft, Vol. i, p. 245. 



224 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

proof," continues Chalmers, " that these material omissions, that Sir Greorge 
Calvert svas the chief penman of the grant. For the rights of the propri- 
etary were carefully attended to, but the prerogatives of the crown and the 
rights of the nation were in a great measure overlooked or forgotton." ^ 

For some reason unknown, Lord Baltimore abandoned his purpose of con- 
ducting the emigrants in person, and appointed his brother, Leonard Calvert, 
to act as his lieutenant.^ On the 22d of November, 1633,^ the lieutenant, 
and about two hundred gentlemen of considerable fortune and rank,'* sailed 
from England in the ship Ark, and in a Pinnance, Dove, for the Potomac, 
where they arrived, February 24, 1634, at Point Comfort, in Virginia ; and 
where, in obedience to the express letters of King Charles, they were 
welcomed by Gov. Harvey, of Virginia, with courtesy and humanity.^ 

Animated by a just sense towards the aborigines, he secured their favor 
by respecting their rights, and purchased of them a territory which they 
were already preparing to leave,® " The Indian women," says Bancroft, 
" taught the wives of the new comers to make bread of maize. The war- 
riors of the tribe instructed the huntsmen how rich were the forests of Amer- 
ica in game, and joined them in the chase. And, as the season of the year 
invited to the pursuits of agricultiu-e, and the English had come into possession 
of ground already subdued, the}^ were able at once to possess corn-fields and 
gardens, and prepare the wealth of successful husbandry. Virginia, from its 
surplus produce, could furnish a temporary supply of food, and all kinds of 
domestic cattle. No sufferings were endured ; no fears of want were excited. 
The foundation of the colony of Maryland was peacefully and happily laid. 
Within six months it had advanced more than Virginia had done in as man}- 
3^ears. The- proprietary continued, with great liberality, to provide ever}^- 
thing that was necessary for its comfort and protection, and spared no cost to 
promote its interests, — expending, in the first two years, upwards of forty 
thousand pounds sterling. But far more memorable was the character of the 
Maryland institutions. Every other country in the world had persecuting 
laws. ' I will not,' — such was the oath for the Governor of Maryland, — ' I 
will not, by myself or any other, directly or indirectly molest any person, 
professing to believe in Jesus Christ, for or in respect of religion.' " ^ 

It is remarked by Kennedy^ that " the glory of Maryland toleration is in 



1 Political Annals, p. 203. bays, had already resolved to remove into 

2 Bancroft, Vol. i, p. 245. places of more security in the interior, and 

3 Ibid. many of them had begun to migrate before 

4 Chalmers, p. 207. the English arrived.— /SicZ, Vol. i, p. 24:6. 

5 Bancroft, Vol. i, p. 246. "^ Vol. i, p. 248. 

6 The native inhabitants, having suffered ^ Discourse on Life and Character of 
from the superior power of the Susque- George Calvert, &c., p, 42. 

hannas , who occupied the district between the 



MOTIVES OF LORD BALTIMORE. 225 

the charter, not in the act of 1649. In settling the colony under this char- 
ter, it is true that Cecil, the second Lord Baltimore, gathered the colonists 
chieflj" from the Roman Catholics. It was quite natural that, in making up 
his first adventure, the proprietary should have gone amongst his friends and 
kinsmen, and solicited their aid in his enterprise. It is to their credit that 
they joined him in it ; and much more to their credit that they faithfully 
administered the charter, by opening the door of emigration to all Christians, 
with an assurance of equal rights and privilege." ^ '' This happy enterprise," 
continues the same author, " could not have succeeded under any other cir- 
cumstances than those which existed. If Charles had been a Catholic prince, 
a Catholic proprietary would have procured a charter for the establishment 
of a Catholic province. If Calvert had been a Protestant nobleman, a Prot- 
estant prince would have granted him a charter for a Protestant province. 
In either case it would have been proscriptive. Both of these predicaments 
were abundantly exemplified in the history of that period. Exclusiveness, 
intolerance, persecution of opposing sects, were the invariable characteristics 
of early American colonization. It was to the rare and happy coincidence 
of a wise, moderate and energetic Catholic statesman asking and receiving a 
charter from a Protestant monarch, jealous of the faith, but full of honora- 
ble confidence in the integrity of his servant, that we owe this luminous and 
beautiful exception of Maryland to the spirit of the colonization of the 
Bcventeeiith century." 

But, with every disposition to favor the motives of Lord Baltimore, it 
must be admitted that there is much reason for believing that the king's con- 
fidence was based upon his lordship's well-known devotion to his majesty's 
service, and that neither he nor the king was disposed to trust the people in 
the exercise of an independent judgment. They could well afford to trust 
the people, if the people would but first place entire confidence in them ; and 
they could safely propose Democratic institutions, provided those institutions 
were to be governed by laws of their own proposing. It is but just that 
they should be commended for their confidence in Democracy ; but it cannot 
be disguised that, while they had no misgivings in respect to their own 
liability to err, they had but little faith in the executive judgment of others. 

The very beginning of the government affords a key to the motives of both 
parties.2 The liberality of the charter warranted the expectation of a free- 



1 Lord Baltimore invited the Puritans of wishes of the Irish peer ; — and the people, 

Massachusetts to emigrate to Maryland, 'vrho subsequently refused Jamaica and 

offering them lands and privileges, and Ireland, were not now tempted to desert the 

*' free liberty of religion ; " but Gibbons, to Bay of Massachusetts for the Chesapeake. — 

whom he had forwarded a commission, was Bancroft, Vol. i, p. 253. 
" so wholly tutored in the New England dis- ^ In 1638, when it was proposed in the 

cipline," that he would not advance the assembly to consider. again, the law^ sent.hX" 

15 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



dom consistent with the dignit}^ of self-government ; and, when the people 
assembled to express their wishes and to act the part of legislators, they 
were met b}' a paternal policy, and opposed b}' the conservative wisdom of an 
aristocracy. The proprietary^ began b}' assuming that he could better pro- 
vide for their wants than they could provide for themselves ; and, when he 
asked their assent to laws which he had framed for their adoption, he doubt- 
less supposed that while he flattered their hopes by an agreement in princi- 



the Lord Proprietor, three questions appear 
to have been stated. "1st. Whether the laws 
should now be read again in the house ; or, 
2d. Whether they should be put to the vote 
immediately, without further reading; or, 
3d. Whether the subject should not be 
postponed to a future day, when a greater 
number of members might attend." On 
the question, "whether they should be 
received as laws, or not," the president, and 
Mr. Lewger (the secretary), "who counted 
by proxies fourteen voices," voted in the 
affirmative. All the rest of the assembly 
voted in the negative, " being thirty-seven 
voices," including probably their proxies. 

" The grounds and reasons of their objec- 
tions to these laws," says Bozman, " do not 
appear on the journal ; but certain it is that 
a very warm opposition, among a large ma- 
jority of the freemen, was made to their 
reception. Neither are we able, at this day, 
to judge of the merit or demerit of those 
laws sent in by the proprietor, by a perusal 
■ of them, as no copies of them are to be found 
on our records. Did the duty of the his- 
torian allow him to mention his conjectures, 
a plausible supposition might be made, that 
the dispute about the reception of these laws 
was dictated more by a political contest for 
the right of propounding laws to be enacted 
by the assembly than any other cause. We 
may suppose, on the other hand, also, that 
his rejection of the laws said to have been 
made by the colonists in 1635 was founded on 
-this disputable right."— Vol. i, 311, 312, 313. 

In illustration of this early contest be- 
-tween the Lord Baltimore and his colonists, 
relative to the right of propounding laws for 
the assembly to enact, it may be observed 
-that about the same time (1634) a dispute, 
somewhat similar to it, took place between 



the Lord Deputy of Ireland and the Irish 
House of Lords. It will appear, perhaps, a 
little extraordinary to Americans (in the 
present state of their political sentiments) 
when they are informed that an Irish statute, 
made in the 10th Henry 7th, commonly 
called Sir Edward Poyning's law, was 
enacted (as the statute expresses it) "at the 
request of the commons of the land of Ire- 
land;" and was, during the 16th and 17th 
centuries, considered by the people of Ire- 
land as the Irish Magna Charta, by which 
" no parliament was to be holden thereafter 
in the said land, but at such season as the 
hinges lieutenant and council tjjere first do 
certify the king, under the great seal of that 
land, the causes, and considerations, and all 
such acts, as to them seemeth should pass 
in the same Parliament, and such causes, 
considerations and acts, affirmed by the 
king and his council (in England), and his 
license thereupon, as well in affirmation of 
the said causes and acts as to summon the 
said Parliament, had and obtained." The 
Irish House of Peers contended (1634) that, 
being the king's hereditary council, they 
could originate statutes to be sent to England 
for the king's approbation, according to the 
statute ; but Lord Wentworth (the then lord 
lieutenant of Ireland) protested against the 
proposition. And, indeed, the words of the 
statute seem clearly to have justified his 
idea. — (See Leland's History of Ireland^ 
Vol. ir, p. 108, and the Appendix thereto^ 
Vol. Ill, p. 20; also 4 Inst., 352.) Thus 
Lord Baltimore, an Irish peer, might have 
been led to construe his charter, like Poyn- 
ing's law, vesting him with the prerogative 
of first propounding to the assembly such 
laws as were to be enacted ; but, whether he 
ever meant to contend for such a preroga- 



CATHOLICISM AND COLONIZATION. 



227 



pies, they would not be reluctant in sanctioning his plans by which those 
principles were to be reduced to practice.^ 

That Catholics should participate in the colonizing spirit of the age, and 
desire to establish communities in the new countrj^ favorable to the Church 
of Rome, was perfectly natural and reasonable. To succeed in such an 
undertaking required careful stud3^ Not so much in deciding upon the best 
plan, as in finding out the only one of a practicable nature that could be exe- 
cuted. The identity of Catholicism was surrendered on the altar of tolera- 
tion, and Papists were trusted by Protestants because Protestants were 
favored by Papists.^ But this was not all. The jealousy of the people was 



tive or not, it is certain that the Assembly, 
after this session of 1637-8, ever afterwards 
exerted the right of framing their own laws, 
to be subsequently approved and assented 
to by the Lord Proprietor. — Bozman, Vol. 
I, p. 382, note. 

i"In the early history of the United 
States," says Bancroft, "nothing is more 
remarkable than the uniform attachment of 
each colony to its franchises ; and popular 
assemblies burst everywhere into life with a 
consciousness of their importance, and an 
immediate capacity for efficient legislation. 
The first assembly of Maryland had vindi- 
cated the jurisdiction of the colony; the 
second had asserted its claims to original 
legislation ; the third, which was now con- 
vened (1639), examined its obligations. 
And, though not all its acts were carried 
through the forms essential to their validity, 
it yet displayed the spirit of the people and 
the times, by framing a declaration of 
rights." — YoL. i, p. 250. 

2 "A close survey of the tendency of 
political affairs, and the state of religious 
feeling in England and in his province, now 
determined the proprietary to change his 
colonial policy, and to transfer the govern- 
ment of Maryland from the hands of the 
Catholics, who had held it since the first 
settlement, to those of Protestants. Accord- 
ingly, in the summer of 1648 (June 20th) 
he set his seal to new conditions of planta- 
tion, in which he asserted the restrictive 
clause, concerning religious fraternities, that 
the fathers had successfully opposed, six 
years before. These were followed by a 
commission (August, 1648) appointing to the 
government of Maryland Captain William 



Stone, a Protestant and a gentleman of 
standing, who had for some years been high 
sheriff of Southampton county, in Virginia, 
and who had recently contracted to intro- 
duce five hundred settlers, of English or 
Irish descent, into the province. The com- 
mission to Governor Stone and the accom- 
panying papers are remarkable, as indica- 
ting the first steps of Lord Baltimore in a 
system of politic deference to the prevailing 
religious and political opinions of the times, 
an entire remodelling of the laws, and a 
legislative recognition of the principles of 
toleration previously practised in the colony, 
and then upheld by the Independents alone 
in England, but not even by them extended 
to the Roman Catholics. 

" The honor of originating this measure 
has long been the subject of controversy, 
and claimed alike by Catholics and Protest- 
ants. By the former, on the ground that 
the instructions and laws which embodied 
that divine principle emanated from Lord 
Baltimore ; by the latter, because the laws 
were enacted by a Protestant Assembly, 
over whom and whose constituents they 
were to be enforced. My investigations into 
the origin of these laws have convinced me 
that they originated, primarily, neither with 
Lord Baltimore nor the Assembly; that 
their provisions sprang from no congenial 
principles at that day active in either the 
Catholic or Protestant divisions of the 
church ; that they were drawn up in defer- 
ence to the progressive doctrines and 
increasing political strength of the Inde- 
pendents in England, as well as to meet the 
wants of the mixed- population of the prov- 
ince ; and their adoption was an act prompted 



228 msTORT OF democracy, 

to be quieted In' proposing to them a greater liberty- than any one bad asked ; 
and their confidence and affection were to be secured b}' a constant and faith- 
ful oversight in regard to their true interests, more than the}- had been 
accustomed to see. Such appears to have been the enlightened policy of 
Lord Baltimore. He gained a victory by surrender, and acquired a confi- 
dence by concession ; but his successors were mastered by principles which he 
endeavored to control, and they were led to the adoption of practices which 
he honestly endeavored to avoid. As darkness vanishes before the tide of 
light, so bigotry melts in the presence of truth, and the spirit of oppression 
is powerless when met by the strong arm of Democracy. 

A policy of wisdom is never barren of beneficial results.^ But, if Lord 
Baltimore was just in his plans and liberal in his concessions, he failed to 
make a distinction betw-een motives of benevolence and the influences of 
public opinion, — between his own dispositions and opinions and the prob- 
able views of his successors. Catholics may die, but Papac}- remains. 
Protestantism maj- sleep, but only to be awakened b}' new events calcu- 
lated to encourage activity. Reaction can only come from action. Men 
are excited to do to-day what yesterday was anticipated by no one ; and 
what is true of man in this respect, as an individual, is particularlj^ true 
of communities and of nations. Lord Baltimore reasoned well in regard to 
his own colony and himself, but badly in respect to the permanent source of 
liis power and the nature of his relations to the other colonies. He failed to 
quiet claims made by Protestants in a Protestant country' . He rested upon a 
fatal confidence as secure against enemies who never appreciated his motives, 
but onl}- watched an opportunity to crush him ; and he relied upon a sover- 
eignty^ which, while it conferred an independence upon others, had not the 
control of its own.^ The sovereignty of Charles I. was diffused in the com- 



far less by feelings of religious benevolence owners, were those which conceded popular 

than by civil necessity. If this view be liberty. — Vol. i, p. 242. 

correct, neither Catholics nor Protestants, 2 Charles Calvert, who governed the 

as sects, at the present day, have any province from 1G61 with a liigh reputation 

especial ground for self-laudation on the for virtue and abilities, succeeded his father 

subject, nor any reason for attempting to as proprietary in 1G7G. He immediately 

make capital, in opposition to each other, convened an assembly, in which he presided 

out of what was done by their predecessors in person. They carefully revised the 

in Maryland two hundred years ago." — whole code of laws. They repealed the 

Streeter's Discourse, p. 39. unnecessary ; they explained the obscure ; 

This quotation is given that the views of they confirmed the salutary. So says 

the writer may be known, and not because Chalmers. Yet, when the proprietary visi- 

his reasoning, is regarded as entirely ted England he was saluted with complaint, 

conclusive. The Bishop of London represented to the 

1 *' It is a singular fact," says Bancroft, committee of plantations the deplorable 

"that the only proprietary charters produc- state of Maryland with regard to religion; 

tive of considerable emolument to their that, while the Roman Catholic priests were 



CHARLES II. AND MARYLAND. 



229 



monwealth. The sovereignty of Charles II. was gathered and compounded 
by an indignant monarch ; and the elements which had centred in his father, 
and newly combined in the loose conceptions of the son, were taken with a 
discriminating hand. The official identit}^ of the Lord Proprietor had been 
lost in the changes of government, and in the progress of things.^ 

Maryland had been settled as if a colony or state could exist and thrive 



endowed with valuable lands, the Protestant 
ministers of the Church of England were 
utterly destitute of support, whereby im- 
morality reigned triumphant there. Lord 
Baltimore, in justification of liimself and 
the province, cited the act of IGid concern- 
ing religion, which had been confirmed in 
the year 1G76 as a perpetual law, and which 
tolerated and protected every sect of Chris- 
tians, but gave special privileges to none. 
He asserted that four ministers of the 
Church of England were in possession of 
plantations which afforded them a decent 
subsistence; but that, from the various 
religious tenets of the members of assembly, 
it would be extremely difficult, if not im- 
possible, to induce it to consent to a law 
that should oblige any sect to maintain other 
ministers than its own. However satisfac- 
tory and decisive was this answer, it seems 
not to have procured perfect acquiescence. 
The committee declared that they thought 
fit there should be some maintenance for the 
clergy of the church. For a season com- 
plaints were silenced, but soon again he was 
accused of ^^ partiality to Papists." It 
was in vain for him to represent that the 
laws of his province gave equal encourage- 
ment to men of every sect, without favoring 
any ; that he had endeavored to divide the 
offices of his government as nearly equal 
among Protestants and Roman Catholics as 
their different abilities would permit; that 
he had given almost the whole command of 
tlie militia to the former, who were intrusted 
with the care of the arms and military 
stores. The ministers of Charles II., to 
throw the imputation of Popery from their 
own shoulders, commanded *' that all offices 
should be put into Protestant hands." 
Lord Baltimore was accused of obstructing 
the custom-house officers in the collection 
of parliamentary duties. Charles II. com- 



plained bitterly that he should obstruct his 
service, and discourage the officers of the 
customs in the execution of their duty, after 
the many favors which had been heaped 
upon him and his father. In 1689 an asso- 
ciation in arms was formed for the defence 
of the Protestant religion, and for asserting 
the right of King William and Queen Mary 
to that province and all the English domin- 
ions. John Coode was placed at the head 
of this association. The king transmitted 
orders to those who had thus acquired 
power, to exercise it in his name for the 
preservation of peace. — See Chalmers' 
Annals, p. 364-374. 

1 ''When the throne and the peerage," 
says Bancroft, "had been subverted in 
England, it might be questioned whether 
the mimic monarchy of Lord Baltimore 
should be permitted to continue. AVhen 
hereditary power had ceased in the mother 
country, might it properly exist in the 
colony? It seemed uncertain if the propri- 
etary could maintain his position ; and the 
scrupulous Puritans hesitated to take an 
unqualified oath of fealty, with which they 
might be unable to comply. Englishmen 
were no longer lieges of a sovereign, but 
members of a commonwealth (1650) ; and, 
but for the claims of Baltimore, Maryland 
would equally enjoy the benefits of republi- 
can liberty. Great as was the temptation 
to assert independence, it would not have 
prevailed, could the peace of the province 
have been maintained. But who, it might 
well be asked, was the sovereign of Mary- 
land? Her " beauty and extraordinary 
goodness " had been to her a fatal dowry ; 
and Maryland was claimed by four separate 
aspirants. Virginia was ever ready to 
revive its rights to jurisdiction beyond the 
Potomac, and Claybourne had already 
excited attention by his persevering opposi- 



230 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



^vitliout adapting itself to external and surrounding conditions. It stood 
upon a basis too narrow for a continental policy, and relied upon theories too 
partial for humanit}'. It was checked by the pressure of party principles 
external to itself, and what existed in harmony with the spirit of the land 
was saved, fostered, and sustained. Mar^dand became subject to Protestant 
control, and preserved to the last, through struggles incident to subserviency^, 
those democratic features of government which were established by its founder, 
and which prepared the way for a union favorable to independence. It was 
with a lively sense of the great truths of Democracy that Lord Baltimore 
proposed so broad a basis for the government of Mar^dand, although he could 
hardly understand in what wa}^ it was to be administered without a conserva- 
tive control. As a Papist, he could see a nation without a Pope,^ as a lord 
he could see a people without a nobility ; but as a man, he was not practi- 



tion. Charles II., incensed against Lord 
BaUimore for his adhesion to the rebels and 
liis toleration of schismatics, had issued a 
commission to Sir William Davenant. 
Stone was the active deputy of Lord Balti- 
more, and Parliament and already appointed 
its commissioners. — Vol. i, pp. 258-259, 

^ A proclamation had been issued by 
Leonard Calvert, the governor, in 1G38, to 
prohibit all unseasonable disputations in 
point of religion, tending to the disturbance 
of the public peace and quiet of the colony, 
and to " the opening of faction in religion." 
Captain Cornwaleys, a Catholic gentleman, 
one of the most distinguished and authori- 
tative persons in the province, had two 
Protestant servants, by the name of Gray 
and Sedgrave. These two chanced to be 
reading aloud together Smith's sermons, a 
Protestant book, and were overheard by 
William Lewis, an overseer in the employ- 
ment of Cornwaleys. Lewis was a zealous 
Catholic ; and it happened that the servants, 
when overheard by him, were reading a 
passage to which he took great exception. 
It charged the Pope to be Antichrist, and 
the Jesuits to be anti-christian ministers. 
Lewis, it seems, supposed this was read 
aloud to vex him; whereupon, getting into 
a passion, he told them "that it was a 
falsehood, and came from the devil, as all 
lies did : and tliat he that writ it was an 
instrument of the devil, and lie would prove 
it; and that all Protestant ministers were 



I 
the ministers of the devil ; " — and he for- 
bade them reading more. 

Without going further into the particu- 
lars, it will be sufficient to relate that the 
two servants prepared a formal comjilaint 
against the overseer, to be submitted to the 
governor and council ; that Captain Cornwal- 
eys himself gave the case another direction, 
by sending it into court, of which Governor 
Calvert, Cornwaleys, and Mr. Lewger, the 
Secretary of Province, were the members ; 
that this court summoned all the parties 
before it, heard the whole case, and fined 
Lewis five hundred pounds of tobacco, and 
ordered him to remain in prison until he 
should find sureties for his good behavior in 
future. — See Bozman. 

In commenting upon this anecdote, 
Kennedy says that "it very strikingly dis- 
plays the patriarchal character of the gov- 
ernment, and its extreme solicitude to keep 
all religious bickerings and discontents out 
of the province." It must be considered, 
however, that " extreme solicitude " may 
arise from different and opposite motives. 
Calvert could not have been indifferent to 
the fact that his settlement was in a Pro- 
testant country, and favored by a Protestant 
king. His solicitude would naturally spring 
rather from his sense of weakness, than 
from any want of disposition to favor his 
own religion, provided he had the necessary 
power. — See Kennedy's Hist. Discourse^ 
p. 44. 



PENNSYLVANIA. 



231 



cally prepared to compreliend either the dignity of his nature, or the justice 
of equal rights. Catholicism and Protestantism joined hands with a concili- 
ator}- spirit on the continent, and Papacy became identified with Democracy 
in America. 

But the principles of Democrac}- remained to be still further illustrated by 
a Quaker, in the settlement of Pennsylvania. 

PENNSYLVANIA.1 

Sectarian zeal had had its seasons of contest, andintolerance its victims, and 
war its desolations. Peligion in its benignity, and patriotism in its lofty aims, 
had blessed the continent with examples of mutual fbrbearance and exalted 
freedom. It now remained for the spirit of peace, in its " modest stillness 
and humility," to exert its sway in a sovereignty of brotherly love. William 
Penn desired " all good men's love," as afterwards James Oglethorpe com- 
manded all good men's charit}'. 

"William Penn^ was better prepared than Lord Baltimore could have been 



1 Pennsylvania was originally settled by 
different detachments of planters under 
various authorities, Dutch, Swedes and 
others, which at different times occupied 
portions of land on South or Delaware 
river. The ascendency was finally obtained 
over these settlements by the Governors of 
Xew York, acting under the charter of 1G64, 
to the Duke of York. 

It continued in a feeble state until 
"William Penn, in March, 1681, obtained a 
patent from Charles II., by which he became 
proprietary of an ample territory, which, in 
honor of his fatlier, was called Pennsyl- 
vania. The boundaries described in the 
charter were on the east by Delaware river 
from twelve miles distance northwards of 
Newcastle town, to the forty-third degree of 
north latitude, if the said river doth extend 
so far northward ; but if not, then the said 
river so far as it doth extend ; and, from 
the head of the river, the eastern bounds 
are to be determined by a meridian line to 
be drawn from the head of said river unto 
the said forty-third degree of north latitude. 
The said lands to extend westward five 
degrees in longitude, to be computed from 
the said eastern bounds, and the said lands 
to be bounded on the north by the beginning 



of the forty-third degree of north latitude ; 
and on the south by a circle drawn at twelve 
miles distance from Newcastle, northward 
and westward, to the beginning of the 
fortieth degree of northern latitude ; and 
then by a straight hne westward to the 
limits of the longitude above mentioned. 
" This impossible boundary," says Ban- 
croft, " received the assent of the agents of 
the Duke of York and Lord Baltimore." 

A new frame of government was, with 
the consent of the General Assembly, estab- 
lished in 1G83. In 1692 Penn was deprived 
of the government of Pennsylvania by 
William and Mary, but it was again restored 
to him the succeeding year. A third frame of 
government was established in 1696. This 
again was surrendered, and a new final 
charter of government was, in October, 
1701, with the consent of the General 
Assembly, established, under which the 
province continued to be governed down to 
the period of the American Eevolution. — 
See Story's Commentaries. 

2 "William Penn was descended from an 
ancient family, of the same name, in the 
fifteenth century, at the village of Penn, in 
Buckinghamshire, England. Furtlier traces 
of this family are to be found in PenlandSy 



232 



HISTORY OF DEMOCr.ACY. 



to provide a more perfect S3'stem of government, having observed and studied 
.the experience of colonies alread}' established. It is true he was but little 



Ten)i-street, Penn-house, Penwood, all 
uf them the names of places in the same 
county. From William Penn, at Penn's 
Lodge, who died March 12, 1591, comes 
Oiles Penn. Giles, it is known, was a 
captain in the royal navy. He was, also, 
for some time, English consul in the Med- 
iterranean. He had a son "William, born in 
1G21, who entered the navy and became a 
distinguished officer. He commanded, at 
a very early age, the fleet which Oliver 
Cromwell sent against Hispaniola. After 
the restoration of Charles II., he was com- 
mander under the Duke of York in that 
great and terrible sea-fight against the 
Dutch, under Admiral Opdam, in the year 
1GG5, where he contributed so much to the 
victory, that he was knighted. He was 
ever afterwards received with all the marks 
of private friendship at court. The follow- 
ing extract is ta,ken from an inscription 
which is to be seen on his monument, erect- 
ed by his wife, in Radclifie church, in the 
city of Bristol : 

He was made captain at the years of 
twenty-one, rear admiral of Ireland at 
twenty-three, vice-admiral of Ireland at 
twenty-five, admiral to the Streights at 
twenty-nine, vice-admiral of England at 
thirty-one, and general in the first Dutch 
war at thirty-two ; whence returning anno 
1655, he was Parliament man for the town 
of Weymouth ; IGGO made commissioner of 
the admiralty and navy, governor of the 
town and fort of Kingsale, vice-admiral of 
Munster, and a member of that provincial 
council ; and anno 1G64 was chosen great 
captain commander under his royal high- 
ness in that signal and most evidently suc- 
cessful fight against the Dutch fleet." He 
died at Wanstead, in the county of Essex, 
September 16, 1670, aged forty-nine years. 
He married Margaret, the daughter of John 
Jasper, a merchant of Rotterdam, in Hol- 
land ; and they had one son, William, who 
was born in London, in the parish of St. 
Catharine, on Tower Hill, October 14, 1644= 



The admiral, trained only to the arts of war, 
has been more distinguished in the annals 
of history as the father of the Quaker than 
as the "great captain" in the fleet of his 
sovereign, — more known as the ancestor of 
a democrat than as a knight of royalty, or 
friend at court. It is not a little remarka- 
ble that one who so early and constantly 
employed himself in the strifes of battle 
should be parent to a son who, from his 
days of youth to the end of his life, 
opposed all war, and favored no policy but 
that of peace. 

The son was sent to Christ's Church 
College, Oxford, when he had arrived at the 
age of fifteen years ; and he early distin- 
guished himself by his great attention to the 
college exercises, and by his aversion to 
shew and ceremony. When Charles II. 
ordered that the surplice should be worn by 
the students, according to the custom of 
ancient times, young Penn was so opposed 
to the execution of the order that he, with 
his friend Spencer (afterwards the Earl of 
Sunderland), and some others, combined 
and fell upon those students who appeared 
in surplices, and tore them everywhere over 
their heads. For this outrage, he and 
several of his associates were expelled. 

His father could not be otherwise than 
displeased with his son's conduct, although 
he was more troubled with his inclination 
to associate with religious people, and avoid 
fashionable life. The admiral was fearful 
that his son would not be fitted to fill that 
station in life which was before him. He 
was prompted by feelings of parental pride 
to save him from the disgrace of being 
religious in any way but that prescribed by 
the church. He had recourse to argument. 
This failing, he proceeded to blows. Meet- 
ing with no success by blows, he turned 
him out of doors. Passion had mastered 
the parent. The parent relented, — the son 
was forgiven. He was then (1662) sent to 
Paris. It was supposed that French man- 
ner,, might correct the growing gravity of 



WILLIAM PENN. 



233 



influenced In' others, except to manifest an earnest desire to avoid their errors ; 
and, as these were more studied in their results than in their causes, he as 



his mind. While there, it is related of him, 
that he was attacked one evening in the 
street by a person who drew his sword upon 
him in consequence of a supposed affront. 
A conflict ensued. William disarmed his 
antagonist, but proceeded no further, spar- 
ing his hfe when he could have taken it. 
He remained in Paris a short time, but 
soon left for Saumur, wliither he went to 
avail himself of the conversation and in- 
struction of the learned Moses Amyrault, 
a Protestant minister of the Calvinistic 
denomination, and Professor of Divinity at 
Saumur. Amyrault was higlily respected 
both by the Catholic and the Protestant. 
With this learned divine he read the fathers, 
studied theology and the French language. 
As he was about to visit Italy he received 
a letter from his father, desiring him to 
return home, to take care of his affairs 
during his absence in the war against the 
Dutch. On his return, on the suggestion of 
his father, he became a student of Lincoln's 
Inn, where he remained about a year, until 
he was compelled to leave, on account of 
the great plague in London. This was 
in 1665, in which year he became of age. 

When he returned from the continent, 
his fother mistook his cheerful temper and 
polished manners for change of mind. On 
his return, however, in 1666, he discovered 
his mistake. William found no pleasure 
but in the society of religious people. 
Having flattered himself that he was suc- 
cessful before in changing the habits of his 
son, he again attempted to subdue him to 
his wishes. He was now sent to Ireland, — 
not for instruction so much as diversion. 
It was supposed that he might be led to 
dismiss his grave tendencies of mind at the 
lively court of the Duke of Ormond, who 
was then Lord Lieutenant. Not so. His 
father then tried the effects of a business 
commission. He owned large estates in 
Ireland, and William was intrusted with the 
sole management of them, much to his own 
relief and the satisfaction of the father. 



Still, he was a Quaker, and attended Quaker 
meetings. He was arrested at one of these 
meetings, in 1667, on the plea of a procla- 
mation issued in 1660 against tumultuous 
assemblies. He was committed to prison, 
but soon released, to return again to his 
unhappy father. He was now a confirmed 
Quaker. His father saw it, and told him 
" that he would trouble him no more on the 
subject of his conversion, if he would only 
consent to sit with his hat off in his own 
presence, and in that of the king and the 
Duke of York." What terms of surrender 
for a father to make to an only son! 
William loved and respected liis father, but 
he could not be induced to fivor "hat 
worship." Only in the service of his Maker 
could he justify himself in the act of un- 
covering the head, according to the practice 
enjoined by St. Paul. The admiral heard 
his answer, but it enraged him. He again 
banished his son from his presence ; little 
thinking that, by such an act, he was claim- 
ing a position for royalty and himself, in the 
affections of another, equal to that conceded 
by the Christian world to the Almighty 
Kuler of the universe ! 

In 1668 William became a preacher and 
a writer. For his writings he was sent to 
the Tower. He was told by the Bishop of 
London that he would be imprisoned for 
life, unless he would renounce his heresies. 
" My prison shall be my grave," was his 
independent reply. Stillingfleet was ap- 
pointed by Charles II. kindly to reason with 
him. "The Tower is to me the worst argu- 
ment in the world," was his emphatic mes- 
sage to the king. He was released, but 
still to be active in aiding his persecu- 
ted brethren, and in declaring the truth 
according to his convictions of duty. He 
was now (1669) reconciled to his father. 
In his last days his father was led to admire 
what he had too often condemned in his 
son. In 1670 he was again sent to the 
Tower, and to Newgate, for preaching. He 
was tried at the Old Bailey, and acquitted. 



234: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

often failed in rendering his own theories complete as he succeeded in cor- 
recting the theories of others. He was a confident believer in funda- 
mental principles, but he did not appear to comprehend the slow conditions 
of progress. " Tilings do not change," sa3's he, in a letter to a friend. 
" Causes and effects are ever the same ; and the}^ that seek to over-rule the 
eternal order fight with the winds, and overthrow themselves." And yet, 
but few at an early age attempted more, or found less to commend in the 
wisdom of the past. The consciousness of his own high motives of integ- 
rit}' led him to adopt extravagant views of man's present capability ; but his 
sentiments were in advance of his knowledge, and his philosophy was not kept 
in harmony with his prayers. It could not be said that he was ignorant of 
practical life, for few enjoyed superior opportunities as the subject of incident, 
or as the observer of things. Government in its various forms, administered 
both b}' its official dignitaries and by proxy, became with him an absorbing 
topic ; and his constant intercourse with men of every class of mind, condi- 
tion and rank, enabled him to become familiar not only with the elements of 
power to be found in the bosom of societ}^, but with the wants of humanit3\ 
He was earl}^ tested by parental austerity, and, by his uncompromising spirit 
of allegiance to his Maker, he frequently became the subject of governmental 
proscription and oppression. He had position by birth, and opportunities of 
influence b}" wealth. He seemed to realize, with unspeakable delight, the 
sublime truth that " God is love ; " and in this universal truth he saw both 
the duty and destiny of man. With " an inward submission of the soul to 
the will of God," he earnestl}" sought to check the inordinate desires of the 
flesh. Self-denial was his principle of action ; and whatever he attempted 



During this celebrated trial he appeared worth and beauty. From this period to 

with great dignity, asserted his rights with 1676, when he first takes an interest in the 

clearness and accuracy, inspired the jury colonial affairs of America, and to 1680, 

with a confidence that was authorized by Mag- when he plans the colony of Pennsylvania, 

na Charta, and put to shame the judges who he spent most of his time in travelling, 

sought only to deprive him of his liberty preaching, and writing. His writings were 

without reference to law. (See some on religious and national topics ; and they 

account of this trial in Clarkson's Penn, discover much mental activity, much re- 

VoL. I, p. 53 ; Bancroft, Vol. ii, p. 371. search, and a spirit of great sincerity. As 

In 1671, while in Newgate, he actively the remainder of his life is briefly given in 

employed his pen in behalf of the cause of other portions of this chapter, so far as it is 

freedom. When liberated from prison, he deemed necessary to illustrate the early 

travelled into Holland and Germany, to history of his colony, this note is not 

spread his religious views. He returned to extended further than to give the period of 

England in 1672. He now entered into the his death. In 1718, " after a continued and 

married state. He took for his wife gradual declension for about six years," 

Gulielma Maria Springett, daughter of Sir he died at Rushcomb, July 30th, aged 73 

William Springett, of Darling, in Sussex, years. — See ClarJcson. 
She was esteemed a woman of extraordinary 



NEW JERSEY. 



235 



to do was adjusted to the standard of right, and without regard to conse- 
quences. Expediency made no part of his theory in politics, morals, or 
religion.^ He gave utterance to his convictions without disguising them, and 
when he acted he prized more an inward peace than an outward popnlarit3\ 
Ills excesses were those of benevolence, and to these may be traced most of 
his errors. 

When Peun projected the settlement of Pennsylvania, he was not without 
some experience in the business of colonization. He had served for several 
years as a trustee in the management of West New Jerse}", and in 1681 he 
became a joint proprietor of East New Jersey.^ Whether he was led to 



1 In his dedication of the Memoirs of the 
Life of William Penn to Lord Holland, 
Thomas Clarkson denominates him " the 
first statesman who, banishing political ex- 
pediency, founded his public conduct solely 
on the principles of justice, by which he 
furnished a model of government capa- 
ble of producing to his own people a 
superior degree of morality and happi- 
ness," &c. 

2 In 1676 Penn was appointed as an 
adviser in the colonial concerns of New 
Jersey. Lord Berkeley, who was joint 
proprietor of New Jersey, with Sir George 
Carteret, had, in the preceding year, sold 
his half-sliare of it to John Fenwick in trust 
for Edward Byllinge. A dispute arose 
between the latter parties, and Penn was 
appointed arbitrator, and, by means of 
the most exemplary perseverance, amicably 
adjusted their differences. He was after- 
wards induced to become a trustee, and 
subsequently a joint proprietor. 

New Jersey was a part of the territory 
granted to the Duke of York, and was by 
him granted in June, 1664, to Lord Berke- 
ley and Sir George Carteret, with all the 
rights, royalties and powers of government, 
which he himself possessed. The proprie- 
tors, for the better settlement of the terri- 
tory, agreed in February, 1664-5, upon a 
constitution or concession of government. 

This constitution continued until the 
province was divided, in 1676, between the 
proprietors. By that division East New 
Jersey was assigned to Carteret, and West 
New Jersey to those who had purchased of 



Berkeley. Penn was one of the number. 
Carteret then explained and confirmed the 
former concessions for the territory thus 
exclusively belonging to himself. The pro- 
prietors, also, of West Jersey prepared 
another set of concessions for the settlers 
within that territory. They contain very 
ample privileges to the people. 

Whether these concessions became the 
general law of the province seems involved 
in some obscurity. There were many diffi- 
culties and contests for jurisdiction between 
the governors of the Duke of York and 
the proprietors of the Jerseys ; and these 
were not settled until after the duke, in 
1680, finally surrendered all right to both 
by letters-patent granted to the respective 
proprietors. In 1681 the governor of the 
proprietors of West Jersey, with the con- 
sent of the General Assembly, made a frame 
of government embracing some of the 
fundamentals in the former concessions. 
There was to be a Governor and Council, 
and a General Assembly of representatives 
of the people. The General Assembly had 
the power to make laws, to levy taxes, and 
to appoint officers. Liberty of conscience 
was allowed, and no persons rendered inca- 
pable of office in respect of their faith and 
worship. West Jersey continued to be 
governed in this manner until the surrender 
of the proprietary government, in 1702. 

Carteret died in 1679, and, being sole 
proprietor of East Jersey, by his will he 
ordered it to be sold for the payment of his 
debts ; and it was accordingly sold to 
William Penn and eleven others, who were 



236 



HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 



plan a new colony with a view to a separate control, to test a tlieor}^, to grat- 
ify a benevolence, " to serve God's truth and people," to civilize the Indians, 



called the Twelve Proprietors. The num- 
ber of proprietors was afterwards increased 
to twenty-four ; and to these the Duke of 
York, in March, 1682, made his third and 
last grant of East Jersey. Very serious 
dissensions soon arose between the two 
provinces themselves, as well as between 
them and New I'ork. A quo warranto was 
ordered by the crown, in 1686, to be issued 
against both provinces. East New Jersey 
immediately offered to be annexed to 
"West New Jersey, and to submit to a 
governor to be appointed by the crown. 
Soon afterwards the crown ordered the 
Jerseys to be annexed to New England, 
and the proprietors of East Jersey made a 
formal surrender of its patent, praying only 
for a new grant securing the right of soil. 
Before this request could be granted, the 
revolution of 1688 took place, and they 
passed under the allegiance of a new 
sovereign. 

From this period both of these provinces 
were in a state of great confusion, and 
remained so until the proprietors of both 
made a formal surrender of all their powers 
of government, but not of their lands, to 
Queen Anne, April, 1702. The queen 
immediately reunited both provinces into 
one, and by commission appointed a gover- 
nor over the same. — See Story's Commen- 
taries. 

" In New Jersey," says Bancroft, "had 
the proprietary power been vested in the 
people, or reserved to one man, it would 
have survived; but it was divided among 
speculators in land, who, as a body, had 
gain, and not freedom, for their end. 

"In April, 1688, 'the proprietors of East 
New Jersey had surrendered their pretend- 
ed right of government,'* and the sur- 
render had been accepted. In October of 
the same year the council of the proprie- 
taries, not of the people, of West New 
Jersey, voted to surrender to the secretary- 



general for the dominion of New England 
' all records relating to government.' Thus 
the whole province fell, with New York and 
New England, under the consolidated gov- 
ernment of Andros. At the Revolution, 
therefore, the sovereignty of New Jersey 
was merged in the crown ; and the leading 
maxim, soon promulgated by the lords of 
trade, that the domains of the proprietaries 
might be bought and sold, but not their 
executive power, weakened their attempts 
at the restoration of their authority. 

" Will you know with how little govern- 
ment a community of husbandmen may be 
safe? For twelve years the whole province 
was not in a settled condition. From June, 
1689, to August, 1692, East New Jersey 
had no government whatever, being, in 
time of war, without military officers, as 
well as without magistrates ; and after- 
wards commissions were issued by two 
sets of proprietors, of which each had 
its adherents, while a third party, 
swayed by disgust at the confusion, and 
also by disputes about land-titles, rejected 
the proprietaries altogether. In the west- 
ern moiety, Daniel Coxe, as largest owner 
of the domain, claimed exclusive proprie- 
tary powers ; yet the people disallowed his 
claim, rejecting his deputy, under the bad 
name of a Jacobite. In 1691 Coxe conveyed 
such authority as he had to the West Jersey 
Society; and, in 1692, Andrew Hamilton 
was accepted in the colony as governor 
under their commission. Thus did West 
New Jersey continue, with a short interrup- 
tion in 1698, till the government was sur- 
rendered. But the law officers of the 
crown questioned even the temporary 
settlement, and the lords of trade claimed 
New Jersey as a royal province, and they 
proposed a settlement of the question by 
' a trial in Westminster Hall on a feigned 
issue.' The proprietaries, threatened with 
the ultimate interference of Parhament, in 



*Smith, 568, 211. 



MOTIVES OF WILLIAM PENN. 



'<ui 



or Tvas moved by all these considerations, it is quite certain that he was actu- 
ated by high and disinterested motives in so extensively employing his means 
for the purchase of territory in the New World. " The views of William 
Penn," says Proud, "in the colonization of Pennsylvania, were most mani- 
festly the best and most exalted that could occupj^ the human mind, — 
nameh^, to render men as free and happy as the nature of their existence 
Could possibly bear, in their civil capacity ; and, in their religious state, to 



respect to provinces * where,' it was said, ' no 
regular government had ever been estab- 
lished,' resolved rather to resign their 
pretensions. In the first year of Queen 
Anne, the surrender took place before the 
privy council. 

" It is worthy of remark, that the domain, 
ceasing to be connected with proprietary 
powers, remained, under the rules of pri- 
vate right, safe to its possessors, and was 
never confiscated. After the Revolution, 
even to the present time, their rights have 
been respected like other titles to estates. 
So true it is that the separation of private 
property from political questions tends to 
its security. 

" The surrender of ' the pretended ' rights 
to government being completed, the two 
Jerseys were united in one province; and 
tlie government was conferred on Edward 
Hyde, Lord Cornbury, who, like Queen 
Anne, was the grandchild of Clarendon. 

" NeA^ Jersey never again obtained a 
charter. The royal commission and the 
royal instructions to Lord Cornbury consti- 
tuted the form of its administration. To 
the governor appointed by the crown 
belonged the power of legislation, with con- 
sent of the royal council and the represent- 
atives of the people. A freehold, or prop- 
erty qualification, limited the elective fran- 
chise. The governor could convene, pro- 
rogue or dissolve the assembly at his will, 
and the period of its duration depended on 
his pleasure. The laws were subject to an 
immediate veto from the governor, and a 
veto from the crown to be exercised at any 
time. The governor, with the consent of 
his council, instituted courts of law, and 
appointed their officers. The people took 
no part in constituting the judiciary. Lib- 



erty of conscience was granted to all but 
Papists, but favor was invoked for the 
Church of England. At the same time, its 
prosperity was made impossible, by invest- 
ing the governor with the right of present- 
ation of benefices. 

" In suits at law the governor and coun- 
cil formed a court of appeal. If the value 
in dispute exceeded two hundred pounds, 
the English privy council possessed ulti- 
mate jurisdiction. Two instructions mark, 
one a declining bigotry, the other an in- 
creasing interest. ' Great inconvenience,' 
says Queen Anne, ' may arise by the liberty 
of printing in our province ' of New Jersey : 
and therefore no printing-press might be 
kept, — ' no book, pamphlet, or other matters 
whatsoever, be printed without a license.* 
And, in conformity with English policy, 
especial countenance of the traffic ' in mer- 
chantable negroes ' was earnestly enjoined. 
Thus the courts, the press, the executive, 
became dependent on the crown, and the 
interests of free labor were sacrificed to 
the cupidity of the Royal African Company. 

" One method of influence remained to 
the people of New Jersey. The assembly 
must fix the amount of its grants to the 
governor. The queen did not venture to 
prescribe, or invite Parliament to prescribe, 
a salary; still less, herself to concede it 
from colonial resources. Urgent that all 
appropriations should be made directly for 
the use of the crown, to be audited by her 
officers, she wished a fixed revenue to be 
settled ; but the colonial deliberations were 
respected, and the wise assembly, which 
never established a permanent revenue, 
often embarrassed its votes of supplies by 
insisting on an auditor of its own. 

" The freemen of the colony were soon 



238 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



restore them to those lost rights and privileges with which God and nature 
had originall3' blessed the human race." 

At the period when Penn petitioned for land in America, his relations to 
the crown were peculiar. His father had advanced sums of money, from 
time to time, for the good of the naval service, and a portion of his salary 
also remained unpaid. These sums, including interest, now amounted to 
sixteen thousand pounds. IIow far he was influenced by considerations con- 
nected with these claims, or in what degree the king was moved to favor a 
petition which would cancel so considerable a debt, does not clearly appear in 
history. He is recorded as the petitioner for the grant, and as the proposer 
of conditions to cancel his debt for land, although his majesty Charles II. 
has the credit of a persisting condescension in naming the province.^ The 
petition was opposed, but the charter was granted. ^ For a considerable 



conscious of the diminution of their liber- 
ties. For absolute religious freedom, they 
obtained only toleration ; for courts resting 
on enactments of their own representatives, 
they now had courts instituted by royal 
ordinances ; — and the sense of their loss 
quickened their love of freedom by an unde- 
fined sentiment of having suffered a wrong. 
By degrees they claimed to hold their 
former privileges by the nature of an invio- 
lable compact. The surrender of their 
charter could change the authority of the 
proprietaries, but not impair their conces- 
sions of political liberties. Inured to self- 
reliance and self-government, no thought of 
independence sprung up among them ; but 
the Quakers and Puritans of East and West 
New Jersey, cordially joining to vindicate 
their common liberties, never feared an 
encounter with a royal governor, and were 
ever alert to resist encroachments on their 
rights. 

"Retaining its own legislature, New 
Jersey was, for a season, included in the 
same government with New York. The first 
governor of West New Jersey had been the 
peaceful Thomas Olive, who, as a magis- 
trate, had quietly dispensed justice seated 
on a stump in his fields, and, as a governor, 
had been content with twenty pounds a year. 
Did hopes dawn of a brighter day with a 
kinsman to the queen as governor of the 
united royal province ? In the administra- 
tion of Olive there had been tranquillity and 



contentment, — the happiness of a blameless 
community under its own guardianship. 
Would more even justice be administered 
by one so nearly allied to the nobility and 
the throne of England?" — Vol. hi, p. 46. 
It may be remarked that such men as Olive 
cultivated the principles of Democracy; 
and that royalty, without intending it, ren- 
dered them available by placing the prov- 
ince in a position of political activity. 

1 It was the intention of Penn to have 
had it called New Wales ; but the under- 
secretary, who was a Welshman, opposed it. 
He then suggested Sylvania, on account of 
its woods ; but they would still prefix Penn 
to it. He offered the under-secretary twenty 
guineas to give up his prejudices, and to 
consent to change the name ; for he feared 
lest it should be looked upon as a vanity in 
him, and not as a respect in the king, as it 
truly was, to his father, whom he often 
mentioned with great praise. Finding that 
all would not do, he went to the king him- 
self to get the name of Penn struck 
out, or another substituted; but the king 
said it was passed, and that he would take 
the naming of it upon himself. — ClarJcson's 
Penn, Vol. i, p. 108. 

2 William Penn had powerful friends in 
North, Halifax and Sunderland; and a 
pledge given to his father on his death-bed 
obtained for him the assured favor of the 
Duke of York. Sustained by such friends, 
and pursuing his object with enthusiasm, he 



INNER LIGHT THE RULE OF CONDUCT. 239 

period the influence of Penn at court was great. Quakerism was a peaceful 
element. Its dissent was passive, — its activity defensive. 

" The moral power of ideas," says Bancroft, ^ " is constanth* effecting 
changes and improvements in society. No Quaker book has a trace of scep- 
ticism on man's capacity for progress. Such is the force of an honest pro- 
fession of truth, the humblest person, if single-minded and firm, * can shake 
all the country for ten miles round.' ^ The integrity of the inner light is an 
invincible power. It is a power which never changes. Such was the mes- 
sage of Fox to the Pope, the kings and nobles of all sorts. It fathoms the 
world, and throws down that which is contrary to it.^ It quenches fire ; it 
daunts wild beasts ; it turns aside the edge of the sword ; it out-faces instru- 
ments of cruelty ; it converts executioners. It was remembered with exult- 
ation that the enfranchisements of Christianity were the result of faith, and 
not of the sword ; and that truth in its simplicit}', radiating from the foot 
of the cross, has filled a world of sensualists with astonishment, overthrown 
their altars, discredited their oracles, infused itself into the soul of the mul- 
titude, invaded the court, risen superior to armies, and led magistrates and 
priests, statesmen and generals, in its train, as the trophies of its strength 
exerted in its freedom.'^ 

" Thus the Quaker was cheered by a firm belief in the progress of societ}'. 
Even Aristotle, so many centuries ago, recognized the upward tendency in 
human aflfairs ; a Jewish contemporary of Barclay declared that progress to 
be a tendency towards popular power ; George Fox perceived ^ that the Lord's 
hand was against kings ; and one day, on the hills of Yorkshire, he had a 
vision that he was but beginning the glorious work of God in the earth ; 
that his followers would in time become as numerous as motes in the sun- 
beams ; and that the party of humanity would gather the whole human race 
in one sheep-fold.^ Neither art, wisdom, nor violence, said Barclaj-,"* con- 
scious of the vitality of truth, shall quench the little spark that hath appeared. 
The atheist, — such was the common opinion of the Quakers, — the atheist 
alone denies progress, and says in his heart, All things continue as they 
were in the beginning.^ 

" If, from the rules of private morality, we turn to political institutions, 
here also the principle of the Quaker is the inner light. He acquiesces in 
any established government which shall build its laws upon the declarations 
of 'universal reason.' '* But government is a part of his religion ; ^^ and 



triumphed over "the great opposition" ^ Penn, Vol. i, p. 347. 

which he encountered. — Bancroft^ Vol. ii, ^ Fox, p. 175. 

p. 362. « Fox, Vol. xxv. 

1 Vol. II, p. 350. "^ Barclay, p. 546. 

2 Fox, p. 112; Penn, Vol. i, pp. 347, 8 Besse, Vol. ii, p. 523. 
348 9 Penn, Vol. i, p. 202. 

3Fox, p. 176. lOFox, p. 72. 



210 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the religion that declares 'every man enlightened by the divine light* 
establishes government on universal and equal enfranchisement. 

*' ' Not one of mankind,' ^ saj^s Penn, " is exempted from this illumina- 
tion.' — ' God discovers himself to ever}^ man.' He is in every breast, — 
in the ignorant drudge, as well as in Locke or Leibnitz. Every moral 
truth "^ exists in every man's and woman's heart, as an incorruptible seed. 
The ground ma}^ be barren," but the seed is certainly" there. Ever}' man is 
a little sovereign to himself.^ Freedom is as old as reason itself, which is 
given to all,^ constant and eternal, — the same to all nations.^ The Quaker 
is no materialist.^ Truth and conscience are not in the laws of countries ; 
they are not one thing at Rome and another at Athens ; thej' cannot be 
abrogated by Senate or people.^ Freedom and the right of propert}' were 
in the world before Protestantism.^ They came not with Luther ; they do 
not vanish with Calvin. They are the common privilege of mankind. 

" Tlie Bible enfranchises those only to whom it is carried ; Christianit}*, 
those onlj' to whom it is made known ; the creed of a sect, those only within 
its narrow pale. The Quaker, resting his sj^stem on the inner light, redeems 
the race. Of those who believe in the necessity of faith in an outward reli- 
gion, some have cherished the mild superstition that, in the hour of dissolu- 
tion,^^ an angel is sent from heaven ' to manifest the doctrine of Christ's pas- 
sion ; ' the Quaker believes that the heavenlj' messenger is always present 
in the breast of ever}^ man, ready to counsel the willing listener. 

" Man is equal to his fellow-man. No class can, 'bj^ long apprentice- 
ship ' or a prelate's breath, b}' wearing black or shaving the crown,ii obtain 
a monopoly of moral truth. There is no distinction of clergy and lait}^ 

" The inner light sheds its blessing on the whole human race. It knows 
no distinction of sex. It redeems woman by the dignity of her moral nature, 
and claims for her the equal culture and free exercise of her endowments. 
As the human race ascends the steep acclivitj^ of improvement, the Quaker 
cherishes woman as the equal companion of the journey.^ 

" Men are equal. ^^ The Quaker knows no abiding distinction of king and 
subject. The universalit}' of the inner light ' brings crowns to the dust,^^ 
and la^'S them low and level with the earth.' ' The Lord will be king ; there 
will be no crowns but to such as obey his will.* With God a thousand years 



1 Penn, Vol. i, p. 320. 8 Barclay, p. 183. 

2 Penn, Vol. i, p. 323. 9 Penn, Vol. i, p. 221 ; lb. Vol. ii, p. 294 ; 
s Barclay, pp- 205, 299. lb. Vol. i, p. 221. 

4 lb. pp. 1G8, 1G9. 10 Barclay, p. 7. 

5 Penn, Vol. hi, p. 183 ; lb. Vol. i, p. ii Barclay, pp. 309, 310, 311. 
203. 12 Fox, p. 59. 

c Barclay, p. 183. 13 Barclay, pp. 1G9, 305, 312. 

'* Penn, Vol. ii, p. 552. i^ Pox, p. 175. 



QUAKERISM A DEMOCRACY. 241 

are indeed as one day ; yet judgment on tyrants will come at last,^ and may 
come ere long. 

" Ever}' man has God in the conscience ; the Quaker knows no distinction 
of castes ; he bows to God, and not to his fellow-servant. ' All men are 
alike by creation,' says Barclay ; ^ and it is slavish fear which reverences 
others as gods. ' I am a man,' ^ says every Quaker, and refuses homage. The 
most favored of his race,* even though endowed with the gifts and glories 
of an angel, he would regard but his fellow-servant and his brother. The 
feudal nobility still nourished its pride. ' Nothing,' saj^s Penn,^ 'nothing of 
man's foil}" has less show of reason to palliate it.' — ' What a pother has this 
noble blood made in the world ! ' — ' But men of blood have no marks of honor 
stampt upon them by nature.' The Quaker scorned to take off his hat 
to any of them ; he held himself the peer of the proudest peer in Christen- 
dom. With the eastern despotism of Diocletian, Europe had learned the 
hj'perboles of eastern adulation ; but, ' My Lord Peter and My Lord Paul 
are not to be found in the Bible ; My Lord Solon or Lord Scipio is not 
to be read in Greek or Latin stories.' And the Quaker returned to the 
simplicity of Gracchus and Demosthenes, though ' Thee and Thou proved a 
sore cut to proud flesh.' ^ This was not done for want of courtes}', which ' no 
religion destroys ; ' but he knew that the hat was the symbol of enfranchise- 
ment, worn before the king by the peers of the realm, in token of equality ; 
— and the sj^mbol, as adopted by the Quaker, was a constant proclamation 
that all men are equal. 

" Thus the doctrine of George Fox was not only a plebeian form of phi- 
losophy', but also the prophecy of political changes. The spirit that made to 
him the revelation was the invisible spirit of the age, rendered wise by tra- 
dition, and excited to insurrection by the enthusiasm of liberty and religion. 
Everywhere in Europe, therefore, the Quakers were exposed to persecution.'* 



1 Besse, Vol. ii, p. 523. fines set upon them, nor so much as the 

2 Barclay p. 541. prison-fees. When they were discharged, 

3 lb. p. 504. they went to their meeting-house again, as 

4 lb. p. 505. before ; and when the doors were shut up 

5 Vol. I. p. 430. by order, they assembled in great numbers 

6 Tox. in the street before the doors, saying that 
1 *' The behavior of the Quakers," says they would not be ashamed nor afraid to 

Bishop Burnet, "was very extraordinary, disown their meeting together in a peaceable 

and had something in it that looked like the manner to worship God; — but, in imitation 

spirit of martyrdom. They met at the of the prophet Daniel, they would do it 

same place and hour as in times of liberty, more publicly, because they were forbid, 

and when the officers came to seize them Some called this obstinacy, others firmness ; 

none of them would stir. They went all but by it they carried their point, the gov- 

together to prison. They staid there till emment being weary of contending against 

they were dismissed; for they would not so much perverseness." It has been truly 

petition to be set at Ubertv, nor pay the remarked that, had Bishop Burnet "con- 

16 



2i2 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Their seriousness was called melancholy fanaticism ; their boldness, self-will ; 
their frugality', covetousness ; their freedom, infidelity ; their conscience, 
rebellion. In England, the general laws against dissenters, the statute 
against Papists, and special statutes against themselves, put them at the 
merc}^ of every malignant informer. They were hated by the church and 
the Presb3^terians, by the peers and the king. The codes of that day 
describe them as ' an abominable sect ; ' — ' their principles as inconsistent 
with any kind of government.' During the Long Parliament, in the time 
of the Protectorate, at the Restoration, in England, in New England, in the 
Dutch colony of New Netherlands, everywhere and for wearisome years they 
were exposed to perpetual dangers and griefs. They were whipped, crowded 
into jails among felons, kept in dungeons foul and gloomj^ beyond imagina- 
tion, fined, exiled, sold into colonial bondage.^ They bore the brunt of the 
persecution of the dissenters. Imprisoned in winter without fire, they per- 
ished from frost. Some were victims to the barbarous cruelty of the jailer. 
Twice George Fox narrowly escaped death. The despised people braved 
every danger to continue their assemblies. Haled out by violence, they 
returned. When their meeting-houses were torn down,^ they gathered openly 
on the ruins. They could not be dissolved by armed men ; and, when their 
opposers took shovels to throw rubbish on them, they stood close together, 
' willing to have been buried alive, witnessing for the Lord.' They were 



eluded with the word perseverance, instead 
of perverseness, his description had been 
less objectionable, as being nearer the 
truth." — NeaVs Puritans, Vol. hi, p. 170. 

1 " Let us bear in mind," says Hon. Joel 
Parker, (in a recent lecture on the early 
legislation of Mass.) "that it was not for 
non-conformity that the Quakers were pros- 
ecuted. I maintain without hesitation, that 
so far from the Puritans persecuting the 
Quakers, it was the Quakers who perse- 
cuted the Puritans." 

" Upon the question whether their insti- 
tutions were endangered by the Quakers, 
the Puritans are entitled to be heard. In a 
humble petition and address of the General 
I Court, presented to the king in February, 
1060, dt is, among other things, said, — 

" Concerning the Quakers, open, capital 
blasphemers, open seducers from the glo- 
rious Trinity, the Lord's Christ, our Lord 
Jesus Christ, &c., the blessed Gospel, and 
•from the Holy Scriptures as the rule of life, 
open enemiefi: tO' government itself as estab- 



lished in the hands of any but men of their 
own principles, malignant and assiduous 
promoters of doctrines directly tending to 
subvert both our churches and state ; after 
all other means, for a long time used in 
vain, we were at last constrained, for our 
own safety, to pass a sentence of banish- 
ment against them, upon pain of death. 
Such was their dangerous, impetuous, and 
desperate turbulency, both to religion and 
to the state, civil and ecclesiastical, as 
that, how unwilling soever, could it have 
been avoided, the magistrate at last, in con- 
science both to God and man, judged him- 
self called, for the defence of all, to keep 
the passage with the point of the sword 
held toward them. This could do no harm 
to him that would be warned thereby : their 
wittingly rushing themselves thereupon was 
their own act, and we, with all humility, 
conceive a crime bringing their bloods upon 
their own head." — 3Iass. Records, Vol. iv, 
part I, p. 451. 

2 Barclay, pp. 483, 484, 356. 



RELIEF TO QUAKERS. 243 

exceeding great sufferers for their profession, and in some cases treated worse 
than the worst of the race." ^ 

But their sufferings, though great for a season, were not without their 
permanent compensations. " The Quakers had," ssljs Macaula^^, " since 
the Restoration, in spite of much ill-usage, submitted themselves meekly to 
the royal authority ; for they had, though reasoning on premises which the 
Anglican divines regarded as heterodox, arrived, like the Anglican divines, 
at the conclusion that no excess of t^-rann}- on the part of the prince can 
justify active resistance on the part of a subject. No libel on the govern- 
ment had ever been traced to a Quaker. In no conspiracj^ against the gov- 
ernment had a Quaker been implicated. The societ}' had not joined in the 
clamor for the Exclusion Bill ; and had solemnly condemned the Rjx-house 
Plot as a hellish design, and a work of the devil. Indeed, the Friends then 
took very little part in civil contentions ; for they were not, as now, congi-e- 
gated in large towns, but were generall}^ engaged in agriculture, a pursuit from 
which they have been gradually driven by the vexations consequent on their 
strange scruple about pa^-ing tithe. They were, therefore, far removed from 
the scene of political strife. The}^ also, even in domestic privac}^, avoided, on 
principle, all political conversation ; for such conversation was, in their opin- 
ion unfavorable to spirituality of mind, and tended to disturb the austere 
composure of their deportment." * * * 

" It happened, moreoA^er, that it was possible to grant large relief to 
the Roman Catholic and to the Quaker without mitigating the suffering 
of the Puritan sects. A law which was then in force imposed severe 
penalties on ever}" person who refused to take the oath of supremacy-, when 
required to do so. This law did not affect Presbj^terians, Independents, or 
Baptists, for they were all ready to call God to witness that they renounced 
all spiritual connection with foreign prelates and potentates ; but the Roman 
Catholic would not swear that the Pope had no jurisdiction in England, and 
the Quaker would not swear to anj^thing. On the other hand, neither the 
Roman Catholic nor the Quaker was touched by the Five Mile Act, which, 
of all the laws in the statute-book, was perhaps the most annoying to the 
Pm-itan nonconformists," ^ 

Although it may be admitted that royal favors were granted with some 
reference to public interests, yet it would hardly be denied that those interests 
were too often seen through the refracting medium of favoritism and selfish- 
ness. The fact that the king insisted upon a name that was complimentar}' 
to the father of Penn indicated a gratified mind, and that the arrangement 
was quite in accordance with his majesty's wishes. This supposition is more 
reasonable than to suppose that Penn was equally satisfied in surrendering 
so large a debt for a questionable property. 



I Fox, Pref., Vol. vii, p. 10. 2 Hist, of Eng., Vol. i, pp. 467-8. 



2U 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



He called the territory his country. " After man}^ waitings, watchings, 
solicitings and disputes in the council," he writes, ''my country was confirmed 
to nie under the great seal of England. God will bless and make it the 
seed of a nation. I shall have a tender care of the government, that it will 
be well laid at first." 

On the 8th of April, 1681, he issued the following proclamation to Ms 
vassals and subjects :^ 

" My friends ; I wish you all happiness here and hereafter. These are to 



1 Pennsylvania included the principal set- 
tlements of the Swedes ; and patents for 
land had been made to Dutch and English 
by the Dutch "West India Company, and 
afterwards by the Duke of York. 

To perfect his territory (1682), Penn 
desired to possess the bay, the river, and 
the shore of the Delaware to the ocean. 
The territories, or three lower counties, 
now forming the State of Delaware, were 
in possession of the Duke of York ; and, 
from the conquest of New Netherlands, had 
been esteemed an appendage to his prov- 
ince. His claim, arising from conquest and 
possession, had the informal assent of the 
king and the privy council, and had extend- 
ed even to the upper Swedish settlements. 
It was not difficult to obtain from the duke 
a release of his claim on Pennsylvania; 
and, after much negotiation, the lower 
province was granted by two deeds of feoflf- 
ment. From the forty-third degree of lati- 
tude to the Atlantic, the western and south- 
ern banks of Delaware river and bay were 
under the dominion of William Penn. — 
Bancroft, Vol. ii, pp. 363, 367. 

The territories were divided into three 
counties, and were called Newcastle, Kent 
and Sussex, and at this time were inhabited 
principally by Dutch and Swedes. In 1682, 
with the consent of the people, an act of 
union with the province of Pennsylvania 
was passed, and an act of settlement of a 
frame of government in a General Assem- 
bly, composed of deputies from the coun- 
ties of Delaware and Pennsylvania. By 
tjiis act the counties were, under the name 
of territories, annexed to the province, and 
were to be represented in the General 
Assembly, governed by the same laws, and 



to enjoy the same privileges, as the inhabi- 
tants of Pennsylvania. Difficulties soon 
after arose between the deputies of the 
province and those of the territories ; and, 
after various subordinate arrangements, a 
final separation took place between them, 
with the consent of the proprietary, in 1703. 
Prom that period down to the American 
Revolution, the territories were governed 
by a separate legislature of their own, pur- 
suant to the liberty reserved to them by a 
clause in the original charter, or frame of 
government. 

" The lower counties," says Bancroft, 
"became at once almost an independent 
democracy; for, as the authority of the 
proprietary was one of sufferance merely 
(1708), and was often brought into ques- 
tion, the executive power intrusted to the 
Governor of Pennsylvania was too feeble 
to limit the power of the people. Dela- 
ware had its own legislature, its own tribu- 
nals, its own executive offices, and virtually 
enjoyed an absolute self-government." — 
Vol. Ill, p. 44. 

The proper boundaries between the 
domains of Lord Baltimore and William 
Penn were considered before the committee 
of trade, and in 1685 the present limits of 
Delaware were settled by compromise. 
This decision formed the basis of an agree- 
ment between the respective heirs of the 
two proprietaries in 1732. Three years 
afterwards, the subject became a question 
in chancery ; in 1750 the present bounda- 
ries were decreed by Lord Hardwicke. Ten 
years afterwards they were, by agreement, 
more accurately defined; and, in 1761, the 
line between Maryland and Pennsylvania 
towards the west was run by Mason and ^ 



CERTAIN CONDITIONS AND CONCESSIONS. 



245 



lett you know that it hath pleased God in his providence to cast j'ou within 
my lott and care. It is a business that, though I never undertook before, 
yet God has given me an understanding of my duty, and an honest minde to 
doe it uprightly. I hope you will not be troubled at your chainge and the 
king's choice ; for you are now fixt at the mercy of no governour that comes 
to make his fortune great. You shall be governed by laws of your own 
makeing, and live a free, and, if you will, a sober and industrious People. I 
shall not usurp the right of any, or oppress his person. God has furnisht 
me with a better resolution, and has given me his grace to keep it. In short, 
whatever sober and free men can reasonably desire, for the security and 
improvement of their own happiness, I shall heartily comply with. I 
beseech God to direct you in the way of righteousness, and therein prosper 
3'ou and your children after you. I am your true friend." 

" Such,'' says Bancroft, " were the pledges of the Quaker sovereign, on 
assuming the government. It is the duty of history to state that, during 
his long reign, these pledges were redeemed." 

In Jul}', 1681, the proprietor published " certain conditions, or conces- 
sions,^ to adventurers," planned aform of government, and appointed William 



Dixon. (See Bancroft, Vol. ii, p. 394.) 
Day says (Hist. Coll. p. 28), "In 1767 
Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, two 
distinguished mathematicians and astrono- 
mers, were employed to run the line, and 
erect stone pillars at conspicuous points." 
Hence the so famous " Mason and Dixon's 
Dine." 

1 Certain Conditions, or Concessions, 
Agreed upon by William Penn, Proprie- 
tary and Governor of the Province of 
Pennsylvania, and those who are the 
adventurers and purchasers in the same 
province, the eleventh of July, one thou- 
sand six hundred and eighty-one. 
First. That so soon as it pleaseth God 
that the above said persons arrive there, a 
quantity of land or Ground plat shall be laid 
out for a large Town or City in the most con- 
venient place upon the River for health and 
navigation ; and every purchaser and adven- 
turer shall by lot have so much land therein 
as will answer to the proportion which he hath 
bought or taken up upon rent. But it is to be 
noted that the surveyors shall consider what 
Roads or Highways will be necessary to the 
Cities, Towns, or through the lands. Great 
roads from City to City not to contain less 



than forty feet in breadth shall be first laid 
out and declared to be for highways before 
the Dividend of acres be laid out for the 
purchaser and the like observation to be 
had for the streets in the Towns and Cities, 
that there may be convenient roads and 
streets preserved not to be encroached 
upon by any planter or builder that none 
may build irregularly to the damage of 
another. In this custom governs. 

Secondly. That the land in the Town be 
laid out together after the proportion of ten 
thousand acres of the whole country, that 
is two hundred acres, if the place will bear 
it : However that the proportion be by lot 
and entire so as those that desire to be 
together, especially those that are by the 
catalogue laid together, may be so laid 
together both in the Town and Country. 

Thirdly. That when the country lots 
are laid out, every purchaser from one 
thousand to Ten thousand acres or more, 
not to have above One thousand acres 
together, unless in three years they plant a 
family upon every thousand acres; but 
that all such as purchase together, lie 
together; and if as many as comply with 
this Condition, that the whole be laid out 
together. 



2:tG 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Markham, a relative, to take possession of the country-, and prepare the way 
for emigrants. Thi'ee ships were freighted, and a considerable number, 



Fourthly, That where any number of 
purchasers, more or less, whose number of 
acres amount to Five or ten thousand acres, 
desire to sit together in a lot or Township, 
they shall have their lot or Township 
cast together, in such places as have con- 
venient Harbors or navigable rivers attend- 
ing it, if such can be found, and in case any 
one or more Purchasers plant not according 
to agreement, in this concession to the 
prejudice of others of the same Township 
upon complaint thereof, made to the Gover- 
nor or his deputy, with assistance they may 
award (if they see cause) that the complain- 
ing purchaser may, paying the survey 
money, and purchase money, and Interest 
thereof, be entitled, inrolled and lawfully 
invested in the lands so not seated. 

Fifthly. That the proportion of lands 
that shall be laid out in the first great Town 
or City, for every purchaser, shall be, after 
the proportion of ten acres, for every Five 
hundred acres purchased, if the place will 
allow it. 

Sixthly. That notwithstanding there be 
no mention made in the several Deeds made 
to the purchasers, yet the said William 
Penn does accord and declare, that all 
Rivers, Rivulets, Woods and Underwoods, 
Waters, Watercourses, Quarries, Mines 
and Minerals, (except mines Royal,) shall 
be freely and fully enjoyed and wholly by 
the purchasers into whose lot they fall. 

Seventhly. That for every Pifty acres 
that shall be allotted to a servant, at the 
end of his service, his Quitrent shall be two 
shilUngs per annum, and the master or 
owner of the Servant, when he shall take 
up the other Fifty acres, his Quitrent 
sliall be Four shillings by the year, or if the 
master of the servant, (by reason in the 
Indentures he is so obliged to do,) allot out 
to the Servant Fifty acres in his own Divis- 
ion, the said master shall have on demand 
allotted him from the Governor, the One 
hundred acres, at the chief rent of Six 
shillings per annum. 



Eighthly. And for the encouragement of 
such as are ingenious, and willing to search 
out Gold and silver mines in this province, 
it is hereby agreed that they have liberty to 
bore and dig in any man's property, fully 
paying the damage done, and in case a 
Discovery should be made, that the discov- 
erer have one Fifth, the owner of the soil 
(if not the Discoverer) a Tenth part, the 
Governor Two fifths, and the rest to the 
public Treasury, saving to the king the 
share reserved by patent. 

Ninthly. In every hundred thousand 
acres, the Governor and Proprietary by lot 
reserveth Ten to himself, which shall lie 
but in one place. 

Tenthly. That every man shall be bound 
to plant or man so much of his share of 
Land as shall be set out and surveyed 
within three years after it is so set out and 
surveyed, or else it shall be lawful for new 
comers to be settled thereupon, paying to 
them their survey money, and they go up 
higher for their shares. 

Eleventhly. There shall be no buying 
and selling, be it with an Indian, or one 
among another of any Goods to be exported 
but what shall be performed in public 
market, when such place shall be set apart 
or erected, where they shall pass the public 
Stamp or Mark. If bad ware and prized as 
good, or deceitful in proportion or weight, 
to forfeit the value as if good, and full 
weight and proportion to the public Treas- 
ury of the Province, whether it be the mer- 
chandise of the Indian or that of the 
Planters. 

Twelfthly. And forasmuch as it is usual 
with the planters to over-reach the poor 
natives of the Country in Trade, by Goods 
not being good of the kind, or debased with 
mixtures, with which they are sensibly 
aggrieved, it is agreed, whatever is sold 
to the Indians, in consideration of their 
furs, shall be sold in the market place, and 
there suffer the test, whether good or bad ; 
if good to pass ; if not good, not to be sold 



PENN OPPOSED TO MONOPOLIES. 



247 



mostl}^ Quakers, accompanied Markliam to America. An association,^ was 
formed at London and Bristol, — the " Free Society of Traders," — wli& 
purchased lands, with distinct views to agriculture, manufactories, and for 
carrj'ing on the lumber trade and whale fisheries. 

Penn himself did not leave England till August 30, 1682. lie sailed in 
the ship Welcome, accompanied by near a hundred persons ; and after a long 
and trying passage, " rendered gloomy by frequent death," arrived at New- 
castle on the 27th day of October, 1682. 



for good, that the natives raaynot be abused 
nor provoked. 

ThirteentJdy. That no man shall by any 
ways or means, in word or deed, affront or 
wrong any Indian, but he shall incur the 
same penalty of the Law, as if he had com- 
mitted it against his fellow-planters ; and if 
any Indian shall abuse, in Word or Deed, 
any planter of this province, that he shall 
not be liis own Judge upon the Indian, but 
he shall make his complaint to the Gover- 
nor of the province, or his Lieutenant or 
Deputy, or some inferior magistrate near 
him, who shall, to the utmost of Ms power, 
take care with the king of the said Indian, 
that all reasonable Satisfaction be made to 
the said injured planter. 

Fourteenthly . That all differences be- 
tween the Planters and the natives, shall 
also be ended by Twelve men, that is, by 
Six planters and Six natives, that so we may 
Hve friendly together as much as in us heth, 
preventing all occasions of Heart burnings 
and mischief. 

Fifteenthly. That the Indians shall have 
liberty to do all things relating to improve- 
ment of their Ground, and providing suste- 
nance for the families, that any of the 
planters shall enjoy. 

Sizieenthly. That the laws as to Slan- 
ders, Drunkenness, Swearing, Cursing, 
Pride in apparel, Trespasses, Distresses, 
Replevins, Weights and measures, shall be 
the same as in England, till altered by law 
in this province. 

Seventeenihly. That all shall mark their 
hogs, sheep and other cattle, and what are 
not marked within three months after it is 
in their possession, be it young or old, it 
shall be forfeited to the Governor, that so 



people may be compelled to avoid the 
occasions of much strife between Planters. 

Eighteenthly. That in clearing the 
ground, care be taken to leave One acre of 
trees for every five acres cleared, espe- 
cially to preserve oak and mulberries, for 
silk and shipping. 

Nineteenthly. That all sliip masters shall 
give an account of their Countries, Names, 
Ships, OAvners, Freights and Passengers, to 
an officer to be appointed for that purpose, 
which shall be registered within Two days 
after their arrival ; and if they shall refuse 
so to do that then none presume to trade 
with them, upon forfeiture thereof; and that 
such masters be looked upon as having an 
evil intention to the province. 

Twentiethly. That no person leave the 
Province without publication being made 
thereof in the market place. Three weeks 
before, and a certificate from some Justice 
of the peace, of his clearness with his 
neighbors and those he has dealt Avitlial, so 
far as such an assurance can be attained and 
given : and if any master of a sliip shall 
contrary hereunto receive, and carry away 
any person that hath not given that public 
notice, the said master shall be hable to all 
debts owing by the said person, so secretly 
transported from the province. Lastly, 
that these are to be added to or corrected by 
and with the consent of the parties here- 
unto subscribed. 

Sealed and delivered in the presence of 

WILLIAM PENN, and others. , 

^ Penn was opposed to monopolies. In 
1681 he was offered, by a company of 
traders, six thousand pounds and an annual 
revenue for a monopoly of the Indian traffic 



248 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

" The news spread rapidl}'," says Bancroft, " that the Quaker king was 
at Newcastle ; and, on the day after his landing, in presence of a crowd of 
Swedes, and Dutch, and English, who had gathered round the court-house 
his deeds of feoffment were produced. The Duke of York's agent surren- 
dered the territory by the solemn delivery of earth and water, and Penn, 
invested with supreme and undefined power in Delaware, addressed the 
assembled multitude on government, recommended sobriety and peace, and 
pledged himself to grant liberty of conscience and civil freedom." ^ 

But, as the colon}' increased in numbers, new principles of action were 
developed. "After the predominance in England of the Protestant succes- 
sion, b}' the Revolution of 1688, the Quakers were no longer compelled to 
go to America to avoid persecution ; while a new set of men, bent more upon 
making their fortunes than upon the defence or promotion of high religious 
principle, were induced to emigrate. These were either of the Church of 
England or Presbyterians from Scotland and Ireland, and were not averse 
to bearing arms. The adventurous traders of New England, too, trained in 
the school of Puritan republicanism, were also coming to seek their gains in 
the genial climate of the south. Among these was the boy Benjamin Frank- 
lin, the new master-spirit of Pennsylvania, who arrived in October, 1723. 
The Mennonists, or German Baptists, — a sect which adhered to the princi- 
ple of non-resistance, — persecuted in Europe, and driven from one country 
to another, sought the toleration of Penn's colony, and emigrated between the 
years 1698 and 1717,- — many, in the latter year, settling in Lancaster, 
Berks, and the upper part of Chester county. The Dunkards, also a non- 
resistant sect, began to emigrate about the year 1718, and subsequently 
established a sort of monastery and convent at Ephrata, in Lancaster county. 
The Lutheran Germans, who, on the other hand, were not averse to fighting 
when occasion required it, began now to emigrate in great numbers, settling 
principally in Berks and Lancaster counties. Amid this great diversity of 
races, languages, sectarian and political prejudices, were early planted the 
seeds of strife that agitated the province for more than fifty years, and 
terminated only in the American Revolution." 2 

In respect to the subject of government, Penn considered man as the dep- 
ut}^ of his Maker, not only qualified by skill and capacity for so great a 
charge and trust, but religiously bound to be honest, and to do justice. 
With him, government was made a part of his religion, and he recognized 



between the Delaware and the Susque- people, that an example and a standard may 

hanna. His answer was prompt and noble, be set up to the nations ; " an! he adds to a 

"Twill not abuse the love of God," said friend, " There may be room there, though 

he, "nor act unworthy of his providence, not here, for the Holy Experiment/'-^ 

by defiling what came to me clean. No ! Bancroft, Vol. ii, p. 365. 

let the Lord guide me by his wisdom, to i Vol. ii, p. 380. 

honor his name and serve his truth and 2 Bay's Hist. Coll., p. 380. 



DEMOCRACY OF THE QUAKERS. 249 

in its institution and end divine control. He studied the subject with an 
evident desire to frame a sjstem that should meet the numerous contingencies 
incident to the nature of man. Goodness was pronounced the safest basis, 
and the practice of virtue the safest polic}*. He attempted to solve the 
great problem as to the best form of government, by admitting the most 
important element which is peculiar to one and common to all, and stated a 
condition which was self-evident, but which failed to explain itself in its 
forced connection.^ He clearly saw in Democracy the true principles of gov- 
ernment, but he sought to reduce those principles to practice by monarchial 
means. 2 Instead of viewing the form of government as a result of the con- 
dition of the people, he preferred to show that the success of government 
depended upon the goodness of man, without reference to form. In some 
degree this was true. But, in premising that it was necessary that the peo- 
ple should be a party to the laws, he omitted to estimate their necessary 
share of power in such a position. People are not to be satisfied with a nom- 
inal position, which admits of their agency in the theorj', but denies it in prac- 
tice. In adopting the property power of control, he decided merely a ques- 
tion of interest, but not of principle, in relation to rights. He doubtless 
was governed by liberal, and it may have been b}" magnanimous motives ; 
but such motives require to be limited by considerations of a i)rudential 
nature, to say nothing of their inapplicability to questions of a public pol- 
ic3^^ Individual interest may sometimes run parallel to public interest ; but 
to rely upon a permanent parallelism between two interests so dissimilar in 
their natui'e, would seem to imply either a want of judgment or the want 



1 See 3d division of his Preface, p. 224, Pennsylvania and Delaware, and West New 
quoted in this chapter. Jersey, and Rhode Island, and in some meas- 

2 The Quaker proprietaries in England ure North Carolina, were Quaker states. — 
declared for Democracy, but not with revo- lb. Vol. ii, p. 402. " But for the hereditary 
lutionary motives against monarchy. Their office of proprietary, Pennsylvania had 
language to the few who had emigrated (in been a representative democracy." — Vol. 
1G76) is thus quoted by Bancroft : "The ii, p. 389. It might be added, perhaps with 
CONCESSIONS are such as Friends approve equal truth, that with a hereditary proprie- 
of. We lay a foundation for after ages to tary a representative democracy would be 
understand their liberties as Christians and impossible. 

as men, that they may not be brought into 3 '< That Penn was superior to avarice, was 

bondage, but by their own consent ; for we clear from his lavish expenditures to relieve 

put THE POWER IN THE PEOPLE." The char- the imprisoned; that he had risen above 

ter and fundamental laws of West New Jer- ambition, appeared from his preference of 

sey were perfected and published March 3, the despised Quakers to the career of high 

1677. "They are written with almost as advancement in the court of Charles II. 

much method as our present constitutions, But he loved to do good; and could pas- 

and recognize the principle of democratic sionate philanthropy resign absolute power, 

equalit}' as unconditionally and universally apparently so favorable to the exercise of 

astheQuakersocietyitself.— Vol. II, p. 357. vast benevolence? <I purpose,' said he, 



250 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

of knowledge. To say that Penn was either ignorant, or deficient in powers 
of discernment, viewed in relation to the age in which he lived, would be au 
act of great injustice to his memory.^ He was a close student of history', 
and a skilful logician. He manifested even a solicitude to avail himself of 
all the aids which God had given him, in his own powers and consciousness, 
and to learn from the experiments of men and nations the conditions of suc- 
cessful endeavor. But he started with an error, and this error produced its 
natural fruit. Tares had been sown with the wheat, and why should the 
reaper look forward to an unmixed crop ? The liberality of his administra- 
tion could not alter the nature of the principles of his frame of government, as 
to property ; his concessions to freedom could not change the source of power 
as to sovereignt}^ ; and he lived to realize the difference always to be found 
existing between resolution and practice in the individual, and between democ- 
racj^ and feudalism in societ3%2 He had failed to understand the mission of 
feudalism, and to discover that society was in advance of those necessities 
w^hich gave it birth. Sovereignty was claimed by the people ; and, so far from 
gaining their consent to have it otherwise lodged by liberal measures, it will 
appear obvious, in the very nature of things, that liberal measures which 
concede equal rights, and provide for the impartial execution of justice, pre- 
pare the public mind more and more for the realization of those blessings 
which can spring only from democratic institutions. It is not enough 
for man, however good, to make promises to the people ; for, if the people 
have been led to believe that they are to be trusted, they are not likely to be 
ignorant of the fact that even the right of making promises alone belongs to 
them, and not to him. 

But, when Penn has explained his own views on government, it may seem 
like presumption not to introduce them without preliminary remarks. The 



* for the matters of liberty, I purpose that country and in Ireland. He had visited 

which is extraordinary, to leave myself and France, Holland, and Germany. He had 

successors no power of doeing mischief, — lived in America, then reputed a new 

that the will of one man may not hinder the quarter of the globe. He had surveyed, 

good of a whole country.'" — lb.. Vol. ii, therefore, men under different tongues, 

p. 360, colors, climates, manners, religions, and 

In liis great devotion to the inner light, governments. He had tasted both the 

he expressed more confidence in principles sweet and bitter fruits of prosperity and 

than fears of failure in practice. His adversity. — See Clarkson, Vol. ii, p. 38. 

spiritual freedom was endangered by his 2 " The relations of Penn to his colony," 

proprietary interests. The greater good says Bancroft, "were two-fold; he was 

was left subordinate to the inferior agent. their sovereign, and he was the owner of 

1 When Penn published his book, entitled the unappropriated domain." — Vol. hi, p. 

^' Some Fruits of Solitude, in Reflections 42. And further, "Divesting himself and 

and Maxims relating to the Conduct of his successors of all power to injure, he had 

Human Life," he had seen much of the founded a Democracy. By the necessity 

world. lie had travelled in his own of the case he remained its feudal sover- 



WILLIAM PENN'S VIEWS OF GOVERNMENT! 251 

following is the language of the " Preface to the Frame of Government " 
which he prepared for the " Province of Pennsylvania : " 

" When the great and wise God had made the world, of all his creatures 
it pleased him to choose man his deputy to rule it ; and, to fit him for so 
great a charge and trust, he did not onl}^ qualify him with skill and power, 
but with integrity to use them justl}'. This native goodness was equal!}' his 
honor and his happiness ; and, whilst he stood here, all went well. There 
was no need of coercive or compulsive means. The precept of divine love 
and truth in his bosom was the guide and keeper of his innocenc}'. But 
lust prevailing against dut}^, made a lamentable breach upon it ; and the 
law that Ijefore had no power over him, took place upon him and his disobe- 
dient posterity, that such as would not live conformable to the holy law 
within should fall under the reproof and correction of the just law without, 
in a judicial administration. 

*' This the apostle teaches in divers of his epistles. The law (says he) 
was added because of transgression. In another place, knowing that the 
law was not made for the righteous man, but for the disobedient and 
ungodly, for sinners, for unholy and profane, for murderers, for whore- 
mongers, for them that defile themselves with mankind, and for men-stealers, 
for liars, for perjured persons, &c. But this is not all ; he opens and car- 
ries the matter of government a little further : Let everj^ soul be subject to 
the higher powers, for there is no power but of God. The powers that be 
are ordained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth 
the ordinance of God ; for rulers are not a terror to good works, but to evil. 
Wilt thou, then, not be afraid of the power? Do that which is good, and 
thou shalt have praise of the same. He is the minister of God to thee for 
good. Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but for 
conscience' sake. 

"This settles the divine right of government beyond exception, and that 
for two ends. First, to terrify evil doers ; secondly, to cherish those that do 
well, — which gives government a life be^'ond corruption, and makes it as 
durable in the world as good men shall be. So that government seems to 
me a part of religion itself, — a thing sacred in its institution and end. For, 
if it does not directl}' remove the cause, it crushes the effects of evil, and is 
as such (though a lower yet) an emanation of the same divine power that 
is both author and object of pure religion, — the difference lying here, that 
the one is more free and mental, the other more corporal and compulsive, in 



cign ; for it was only as such that he could remove the inconsistency." — ^Vol. iit, pp. 

have granted or could maintain the charter 43,44. But "the necessity of the case" 

of colonial liberties. His resignation would does not alter the principle, and to speak of 

have been a surrender of the colony to the "inconsistency" is to admit the discovery 

crown. But time and the people would of error. 



252 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

its operations. But that is only to evil-doers ; government itself being oth- 
erwise as capable of kindness, goodness, and charity-, as a more private soci- 
etj'. They weakly err that think there is no other use of government than 
correction, which is the coarsest part of it. Daily experience tells us that 
the care and regulation of many other affairs more soft and daily necessary 
make up much the greatest part of government ; and which must have fol- 
lowed the peopling of the world, had Adam never fell, and will continue 
among men on earth under the highest attainments the}'' may arrive at, by 
the coming of the blessed second Adam, the Lord from heaven. Thus much 
of government in general, as to its rise and end. 

" For particular frames and models, it will become me to say little ; and, 
comparatively, I will say nothing. My reasons are : first, that the age is 
too nice and difficult for it, there being nothing the wits of men are more 
busy and divided upon. Tis true, they seem to agree in the end, to wit, 
happiness ; but in the means they differ, as to divine, so to this human felic- 
ity. And the cause is much the same ; not alwa3's want of light and knowl- 
edge, but want of using them rightly. Men side with their passions against 
their reason, and their sinister interests have so strong a bias upon their 
minds, that they lean to them against the good of the things they know. 

" Secondl}^, I do not find a model in the world that time, place and some 
singular emergencies, have not necessarily altered ; nor is it easy to frame a 
civil government that shall serve all places alike. 

" Thirdly, I know what is said by the several admirers of monarch}-, aris- 
tocracy and democracy, which are the rule of one, a few, and many, and are 
the three common ideas of government, when men discourse on that subject. 
But I choose to solve the controversy with this small distinction, and it 
belongs to all three. Any government is free to the people under it (what- 
ever be the frame) where the laws rule, and the people are a party to those 
laws ; and more than this is tyrannj', oligarchy, and confusion. 

" But, lastl}-, when all is said, there is hardly one frame of government 
in the world so ill-designed by its founders, that, in good hands, would not 
do well enough ; and storj^ tells us, the best in ill ones can do nothing that 
is great or good. Witness the Jewish and Roman states. Governments, 
like clocks, go from the motion men give them ; and, as governments are 
made and moved by men, so by them they are ruined too. Wherefore gov- 
ernments rather depend upon men, than men upon governments. Let men 
be good, and the government cannot be bad ; if it be ill, they will cure it. 
But if men be bad, let the government be never so good, they will endeavor 
to warp and spoil it to their turn. 

" I know some ssij, let us have good laws, and no matter for the men that 
execute them. But, let them consider that, though good laws do well, good 
men do better ; for good laws may want good men, and be abolished or 
invaded by ill men ; — but good men will never want good laws, nor suffer 



FRAME OF GOVERNMENT. 



253 



ill ones. 'Tis true, good laws have some awe upon ill ministers ; but that 
is where they have not power to escape or abolish them, and the people are 
generally wise and good. But a loose and depraved people (which is to the 
question) love laws and an administration like themselves. That, therefore, 
which makes a good constitution must keep it, namely, men of wisdom and 
virtue, — qualities that, ])ecause thej^ descend not with worldly inheritances, 
must be carefully 2:>ropagated b}' a virtuous education of youth, for which 
after ages will owe more to the care and prudence of founders and the suc- 
cessive magistracy, than to their parents, for their private patrimonies. 

" These considerations of the weight of government, and the nice and 
various opinions about it, made it uneasy to me to think of publishing the 
ensuing frame and conditional laws,^ foreseeing both the censures they will 
meet with from men of differing humors and engagements, and the occasion 
they may give of discourse beyond my design. 



1 The Frame. 

TO ALL PEOrLE to whom these 
presents shall come. WHEEEAS King 
Charles the Second, by his letters patents, 
Tinder the great seal of England, for the 
consideration therein mentioned, hath been 
graciously pleased to give and grant unto 
me, "William Penn (by the name of William 
Penn, Esq., son and heir of Sir William 
Penn, deceased), and to my heirs and 
assigns forever, all that tract of land or 
province, called Pennsylvania, in America, 
with divers great powers, preheminences, 
royalties, jurisdictions, and authorities, 
necessary for the well-being and goverment 
thereof: NOW KNOW YE that for the 
well-being and government of the said 
province, and for the encouragement of all 
the freemen and planters that may be there- 
in concerned, in pursuance of the powers 
aforementioned, I the said William Penn 
have declared, granted, and confirmed, and 
by these presents, for me, my heirs and 
assigns, do declare, grant and confirm 
unto all the freemen, planters and adven- 
turers, of, in and to the said province, 
these liberties, franchises, and properties, 
to be held, enjoyed and kept by the free- 
men, planters and inhabitants of the said 
province of Pennsylvania, forever. 

Imprimis. That the government of this 
prorince shall, according to the powers of 



the patent, consist of the Governor and 
freemen cf the said province, in form of 
a Provincial Council and General Assembly, 
by whom all laws shall be made, officers 
chosen, and public affairs transacted, as is 
hereafter respectively declared. That is to 
say. 

Second. That the freemen of the said 
province shall, on the twentieth day of the 
twelfth month which shall be in this present 
year, one thousand six hundred eighty and 
two, meet and assemble in some fit place, of 
which timely notice shall be beforehand 
given, by the governor or his deputy, and 
then and there shall choose out of them- 
selves seventy-two persons of most note 
for their wisdom, virtue and ability, who 
shall meet on the tenth of the first month 
next ensuing, and always be called an act 
as the Provincial Council of the said 
province. 

Third. That at the first choice of such 
Provincial Council, one-third part of the 
said Provincial Council shall be chosen to 
serve for three years next ensuing; one- 
third part for two years then next ensuing, 
and one third part for one year then next 
following such election, and no longer ; and 
that the said third part shall go out accord- 
ingly. And on the twentieth day of the 
twelfth month as aforesaid, yearly forever 
afterward, the freemen of the said province 
shall in like manner meet and assemble 



254 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



" But next to the power of necessit}^ (which is a solicitor that will take 
no denial) this induced me to a compliance, that we have (with reverence to 
God, and good conscience to men) to the best of our skill contrived and 



togetlier, and then choose twenty-four per- 
sons, being one-third of the said number, 
to serve in Provincial Council for three 
years. It being intended, that one-third 
part of the whole Provincial Council 
(always consisting and to consist of seventy- 
two persons, as aforesaid) falling off yearly, 
it shall be yearly supplied by such new 
yearly elections, as aforesaid ; and that no 
one person shall continue therein longer than 
three years : and in case any member shall 
decease before the last election during his 
time, that then, at the next election ensuing 
his decease, another shall be chosen to sup- 
ply his place for the remaining time he was 
to have served, and no longer. 

Fourth. That after the first seven years, 
every one of the said third parts that goeth 
yearly off shall be uncapable of being 
chosen again for one whole jeax following ; 
that so all may be fitted for government, 
and have experience and care and burden 
of it. 

Fifth. That the Provincial Council, in 
all cases of matters of moment, as their 
arguing upon bills to be passed into laws, 
erecting courts of justice, giving judgment 
upon criminals impeached, and choice of 
officers, in such manner as is herein after 
mentioned, not less than two-thirds of the 
whole Provincial Council shall make a 
quorum ; and that the consent and appro- 
bation of two-thirds of such quorum shall 
be had in all such cases and matters of 
moment. And, moreover, that in all cases 
and matters of lesser moment twenty-four 
members of the said Provincial Council 
shall make a quorum, the majority of which 
twenty-four shall and may always deter- 
mine in such cases and causes of lesser 
moment. 

Sixth. That in this Provincial Council 
the governor or his deputy shall or may 
always preside, and have a treble voice; 
and the said Provincial Council shall 
always continue, and sit upon its own 
adjournments and committees. 



Seventh. That the Governor and Provin- 
cial Council shall prepare and propose to 
the General Assembly hereafter mentioned 
all bills which they shall at any time think 
fit to be passed into laws within the said 
province; which bills shall be published 
and affixed to the most noted places in the 
inhabited parts thereof thirty days before 
the meeting of the General Assembly, in 
order to the passing them into laws, or 
rejecting of them, as the General Assem- 
bly shall see meet. 

Eighth. That the Governor and Provin- 
cial Council shall take care that all laws, 
statutes and ordinances, which shall at any 
time be made within the said province, be 
duly and dilligently executed. 

Ninth. That the Governor and Provin- 
cial Council shall at all times have the care 
of the peace and safety of the province, and 
that nothing be by any person attempted to 
the subversion of this frame of govern- 
ment. 

Tenth. That the Governor and Provin- 
cial Council shall at all times settle and 
order the situation of all cities, ports and 
market towns, in every county, modelling 
therein all public buildings, streets and 
market-places, and shall appoint all nec- 
essary roads and highways in the province. 

Eleventh. That the Governor and Pro- 
vincial Council shall at all times have 
power to inspect the management of the 
public treasury, and punish those who shall 
convert any part thereof to any other use 
than what hath been agreed upon by the 
Governor, Provincial Council and General 
Assembly. 

Twelfth. That the Governor and Pro- 
vincial Council shall erect and order all 
public schools, and encourage and reward 
the authors of useful sciences aud laudable 
inventions, in the said province. 

Thirteenth. That, for the better man- 
agement of the powers and trust aforesaid, 
the Provincial Council shall from time to 
time divide itself into four distinct and 



FRAME OF GOVERNMENT. 



255 



composed the FRAME and LAWS of this government, to the great end of 
all government, namely, to support power in reverence with the people, and 
to secure the people from the abuse of power, that thej^ may be free b}^ 



proper committees, for the more easy ad- 
ministration of the affairs of the province, 
which divides the seventy-two into four 
eighteens, every one of which eighteens 
shall consist of six out of each of the three 
orders or yearly elections, each of which 
shall have a distinct portion of business, as 
followeth : first, a committee of plantations, 
to situate and settle cities, ports, market- 
tOAvns and highways, and to hear and decide 
all suits and controversies relating to plan- 
tations. Secondly, a committee of justice 
and safety, to secure the peace of the prov- 
ince, and punish the maladministration 6f 
those who subvert justice to the prejudice 
of the public or private interest. Thirdly, 
a committee of trade and treasury, who 
shall regulate all trade and commerce 
according to law, encourage manufacture 
and country growth, and defray the public 
charge of the province. And fourthly, a 
committee of manners, education, and arts, 
that all wicked and scandalous living may 
be prevented, and that youth may be suc- 
cessively trained up in virtue and useful 
knowledge and arts : the quorum of each 
of which committees being six, that is, two 
out of each of the three orders or yearly 
elections as aforesaid, making a constant and 
standing council of twenty-four, which will 
have the power of the Provincial Council, 
being the quorum of it, in all cases not 
excepted in the fifth article; and in the 
said committees and standing Council of 
the province, the governor or his deputy 
shall or may preside as aforesaid ; and in 
the absence of the governor or his deputy, 
if no one is by either of them appointed, 
the said committees or Council shall appoint 
a president for that time, and not otherwise ; 
and what shall be resolved at such commit- 
tees shall be reported to the said Council of 
the province, and shall be by them resolved 
and confirmed before the same shall be put 
in execution; and that these respective 
committees shall not sit at one and the same 
time, except in cases of necessity. 



Fourteenth. And to the end that all laws 
prepared by the Governor and Provincial 
Council aforesaid may yet have the more 
full concurrence of the freemen of the 
province, it is declared, granted, and con- 
firmed, that at the time and place or places 
for the choice of a Provincial Council as 
aforesaid, the said freemen shall yearly 
choose members to serve in General Assem- 
bly as their representatives, not exceeding 
two hundred persons, who shall yearly 
meet on the twentieth day of the second 
month, which shall be in the year one 
thousand six hundred eighty and three 
following, in the capital, town, or city of 
the said province, where during eight days 
the several members may freely confer 
with one another ; and if any of them see 
meet, with a committee of the Provincial 
Council (consisting of three out of each 
of the four committees aforesaid, being 
twelve in all) which shall be at that time 
purposely appointed to receive from any of 
them proposals for the alteration or amend- 
ment of any of the said proposed and pro- 
mulgated bills : and on the ninth day from 
their so meeting, the said General Assem- 
bly, after reading over the proposed bills by 
the clerk of the Provincial Council, and the 
occasion and motives for them being opened 
by the governor or his deputy, shall give 
their affirmative or negative, which to them 
seemeth best, in such manner as hereinafter 
is expressed. But not less than two-thirds 
shall make a quorum in the passing of laws 
and choice of such officers as are by them 
to be chosen. 

Fifteenth. That the laws so prepared 
and proposed as aforesaid, that are assented 
to by the General Assembly, shall be 
enrolled as laws of the province, with this * 
style : By the Governor, with the assent 
and approbation of the freemen in Provin- 
cial Council and General Assembly. 

Sixteenth. That for the better establish- 
ment of the government and laws of this 
province, and to the end there may be an 



2S6 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



their just obedience, and the magistrates honorable for their just administra- 
tion : for liberty without obedience is confusion, and obedience without lib- 
erty is slavery. To carry this evenness is partly owing to the constitution, 



universal satisfaction in the laying of the 
fundamentals thereof, the General Assem- 
bly shall or may for the first year consist of 
all the freemen of and in the said province, 
and ever after it shall be yearly chosen, as 
aforesaid; which number of two hundred 
shall be enlarged as the country shall 
increase in people, so as it do not exceed 
five hundred at any time : the appointment 
and proportioning of which, as also the 
laying and methodizing of the choice of 
the Provincial Council and General Assem- 
bly in future times, most equally to the 
divisions of the hundreds and counties, 
which the country shall hereafter be divided 
into, shall be in the power of the Provin- 
cial Council to propose, and the General 
Assembly to resolve. 

Seventeenth. That the Governor and the 
Provincial Council shall erect, from time to 
time, standing courts of justice in such 
places and number as they shall judge con- 
venient for the good government of the said 
province. And that the Provincial Council 
shall, on the thirteenth day of the first month 
yearly, elect and present to the governor or 
his deputy a double number of persons to 
serve forjudges, treasurers, masters of rolls, 
within the said province for the year next 
ensuing ; and the freeman of the said prov- 
ince in the county courts, when they shall 
be erected, and till then in the General 
Assembly, shall, on the three and twentieth 
day of the second month, yearly, elect and 
present to the governor or his deputy a 
double number of persons to serve for 
sheriffs, justices of the peace, and coroners, 
for the year next ensuing ; out of which 
respective elections and presentments the 
governor or his deputy shall nominate and 
commissionate the proper number for each 
office the third day after the said present- 
ments ; or else the first named in such pre- 
sentment for each office shall stand and 
serve for that office the year ensuing. 

Eighteenth. But forasmuch as the pres- 



ent condition of the province requires some 
immediate settlement, and admits not of so 
quick a revolution of officers ; and to the 
end the said province may with all conven- 
ient speed be well ordered and settled, I 
William Penn do therefore think fit to nomi- 
nate and appoint such persons for judges, 
treasurers, masters of the rolls, sheriffs, 
justices of the peace, and coroners, as are 
most fitly qualified for those employments ; 
to whom I shall make and grant commis- 
sions for the said offices respectively, to 
hold to them to whom the same shall be 
granted for so long a time as every such 
person shall behave himself in the office or 
place to him respectively granted, and no 
longer. And upon the decease or dis- 
placing of any of the said officers, the 
succeeding officer or officers shall be chosen 
as aforesaid. 

Nineteenth. That the General Assembly 
shall continue so long as may be needful to 
impeach criminals fit to be there im- 
peached; to pass bills into laws, that they 
shall think fit to pass into laws, and till 
such time as the Governor and Provincial 
Council shall declare that they have nothing 
further to propose unto them for their 
assent and approbation ; and that declara- 
tion shall be a dismiss to the General 
Assembly for that time, which General 
Assembly shall be notwithstanding capable 
of assembling together, upon the summons 
of the Provincial Council, at any time 
during that year, if the said Provincial 
Council see occasion for their so assem- 
bling. 

Twentieth. That all the elections of 
members or representatives of the people, 
to serve in Provincial Council and General 
Assembly, and all questions to be deter- 
minated by both or either of them, that 
relate to passing of bills into laws, to the 
choice of officers, to impeachments made 
by the General Assembly, and judgment of 
criminals upon such impeachments by the 



LAWS AGREED UPON IN ENGLAND. 



257 



and partly to the magistracy : where either of these fail, government will 
be subject to convulsions ; but where both are vfanting, it must be totally 



Provincial Council, and to all other cases 
by them respectively judged of importance, 
shall be resolved and determined by the 
ballot; and, unless on sudden and indis- 
pensable occasions, no business in Provin- 
cial Council, or its respective committees, 
shall be finally determined the same day 
that it is moved. 

Twenty -first. That at all times, when 
and so often as it shall happen, that the 
Governor shall or may be an infant, under 
the age of one and twenty years, and no 
guardians or commissioners are appointed 
in writing by the father of the said infant, 
or that such guardians or commissioners 
shall be deceased ; that during such minor- 
ity, the Provincial Council shall, from time 
to time, as they shall see meet, constitute 
and appoint guardians or commissioners, 
not exceeding three; one of which three 
shall preside as deputy and chief guardian, 
during such minority, and shall have and 
execute, with the consent of the other two, 
all the power of a governor, in all the 
public afiairs and concerns of the said 
province. 

Twenty-second. That as often as any 
day of the month, mentioned in any article 
of this charter, shall fall upon the first day ofr' 
the week, commonly called the Lord's day, 
the business appointed for that day shall be 
deferred till next day, unless in case of 
emergency. 

Twenty-third. That no act,, law, or 
ordinance whatsoever,, shall at any time 
hereafter be made or done, by the governor 
of this province, his heirs or assigns, or by 
the freemen in the Provincial Council or the 
General Assembly, to alter, change, or 
diminish the form or effect of this charter, 
or any part or clause thereof, without the 
consent of the governor, his heirs or 
assigns, and six parts of seven of the said 
freemen in Provincial Council and General 
Assembly. 

And Lastly. That I the said William 
Penn, for myself, my heirs and assigns, 
have solemnly declared, granted and con- 

17 



firmed, and do hereby solemnly declare, 
grant and confirm, that neither I, my heirs 
nor assigns, shall procure or do any thing 
or things whereby the liberties in this 
charter contained and expressed shall be 
infringed or broken; and if anything be 
procured by any person or persons con- 
trary to these premises, it shall be held of 
no force or effect. In witness whereof, I 
the said William Penn have unto this 
present charter of liberties set my hand and 
broad seal, this five and twentieth day of 
the second month.;, vulgarly called April, in 
the year of our Lord one thousand six 
hundred and eighty-two. 

William Penn. 

laws agreed upon in england. 

First, That the charter of liberties, 
declared, granted and confirmed, the five 
and twentieth day of the second month, 
called April, 1G8 2, before divers witnesses, 
by William Penn, Governor and Cliief Pro- 
prietary of Pennsylvania, to all the freemen 
and.planters of the said province, is hereby 
declared, and; approved, and shall be for- 
ever held: for fundamental, in the govern- 
ment thereof, according to the limitations 
mentioned in the said charter. 

Second. That every inhabitant in the 
said province, that is or shall be a purchaser 
of one hundred acres of land and upwards, 
his heirs and assigns, and every person who 
shall have paid his passage, and taken up 
one hundred acres of land, at one penny an 
acre, and have cultivated ten acres thereof, 
and every person that hath been a servant 
or bondsman, and is free by his service, 
that shall have taken up his fifty acres of 
land, and cultivated twenty thereof, and 
ever}' inhabitant, artificer, or other resi- 
dent in the said province, that pays scot 
and lot to the government, shall be deemed 
and accounted a freeman of the said prov- 
ince ; and every such person shall and may 
be capable of electing or being elected rep- 
resentatives of the people m Provincial 



258 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



subverted : then where both meet, the government is like to endure. Which 
I humbly pray and hope God will please to make the lot of this of Pennsyl- 
vania. Amen." 



Council or General Assembly in the said 
province. 

Third. That all elections of members 
or representatives of the people and free- 
men of the province of Pennsylvania, to 
serve in Provincial Council or General 
Assembly, to be held within the said prov- 
ince, shall be free and voluntary : and that 
the elector that shall receive any reward or 
gift, in meat, drink, moneys or otherwise, 
shall forfeit his right to elect; and such 
person as shall, directly or indirectly, give, 
promise, or bestow any such reward as 
aforesaid, to be elected, shall forfeit his 
election, and be thereby incapable to serve 
as aforesaid. And the Provincial Council 
and General Assembly shall be the sole 
judges of the regularity or irregularity of 
tlie elections of their own respective 
members. 

FouHh. That no money or goods shall 
be raised upon or paid by any of the people 
of this province, by way of a public tax, 
custom or contribution, but by a law for 
that purpose made; and whosoever shall 
levy, collect or pay any money or goods 
contrary thereunto, shall be held a public 
enemy to the province, and a betrayer of 
the liberties of the people thereof. 

Fifth. That all courts shall be open, and 
justice shall neither be sold, denied or 
delayed. 

Sixth. That in all courts all persons of 
all persuasions may freely appear in their 
own way, and according to their own 
manner, and there personally plead their 
own cause themselves, or, if unable, by 
their friends. And the first process shall 
be the exhibition of the complaint in court, 
fourteen days before the trial; and, that the 
party complained against may be fitted for 
the same, he or she shall be summoned no 
less than ten days before, and a copy of the 
complaint delivered him or her, at his or 
her dwelling-house. But before the com- 
plaint of any person be received, he shall 



solemnly declare in court that he believes 
in his conscience his cause is just. 

Seventh. That all pleadings, processes 
and records in courts, shall be short, and in 
English, and in an ordinary and plain char- 
acter, that they may be understood, and 
justice speedily administered. 

Eighth. That all trials shall be by 
twelve men, and as near as may be, peers 
or equals, and of the neighborhood, and 
men without just exception. In cases of 
life, there shall be first twenty-four returned 
by the sheriff for a grand inquest, of whom 
twelve at least shall find the complaint to be 
true ; and then the twelve men, or peers, to 
be likewise returned by the sheriff, shall 
have the final judgment. But reasonable 
challenges shall be always admitted against 
the said twelve men, or any of them. 

Ninth. That all fees in all cases shall 
be moderate, and settled by the Provincial 
Council and General Assembly, and be 
hung up in a table in every respective 
court ; and whosoever shall be convicted of 
taking more shall pay two-fold, and be dis- 
missed his employment, one moiety of 
which shall go to the party wronged. 

Tenth. That all prisons shall be work- 
houses for felons, vagrants, and loose and 
idle persons ; whereof, one shall be in 
every county. 

Eleventh. That all prisoners shall be 
bailable by sufficient sureties, unless for 
capital offences, where the proof is evident, 
or the presumption great. 

Twelfth. That all persons wrongfully 
imprisoned or prosecuted at law shall have 
double damages against the informer or 
prosecutor. 

Thirteenth. That all prisons shall be 
free, as to fees, food, and lodging. 

Fourteenth. That all hands and goods 
shall be liable to pay debts, except wliere 
there is legal issue, and then all the goods 
and one-third of the land only. 

Fifteenth. That all wills and writing, 



CHARACTER OF WILLIAM PENN. 



259 



To understand clearly the opinions of Penn in regard to government, it 
is requisite that we should have distinct views of his character. What were 



attested by two witnesses, shall be of the 
same force as to lands as other conveyances, 
being legally proved within forty days, 
either within or without the said province. 

Sixteenth. That seven years' quiet pos- 
session shall give an unquestionable right, 
except in cases of infants, lunatics, married 
women, or persons beyond the seas. 

Seventeenth. That all briberies and 
extortions whatsoever shall be severely 
punished. 

Eighteenth. That all fines shall be 
moderate, and saving men's contenements, 
merchandise or wainage. 

Nineteenth. That all marriages (not for- 
bidden by the law of God, as to nearness of 
blood and affinity by marriage) shall be 
encouraged; but the parents or guardians 
shall be first consulted, and the marriage 
shall be published before it be solemnized ; 
and it shall be solemnized by taking one 
another as husband and wife, before credi- 
ble witnesses, and a certificate of the whole, 
under the hands of parties and witnesses, 
shall be brought to the proper register of 
that county, and shall be registered in his 
office. 

Twentieth. And, to prevent frauds and 
vexatious suits within the said province, 
that all charters, gifts, grants, and convey- 
ances of land (except leases for a year or 
under), and all bills, bonds and specialties, 
have five pounds, and not under three 
months, made in the said province, shall be 
enrolled or registered in the public enrol- 
ment office of the said province within the 
space of two months next after the making 
thereof, else to be void in law. And all 
deeds, grants, and conveyances of land 
(except as aforesaid), within the said 
province, and made out of the said prov- 
ince, shall be enrolled or registered as 
aforesaid, within six months next after the 
making thereof, and settling and constitu- 
ting an enrolment office or registry within 
the said province, else to be void in law 
against all persons whatsoever. 



Twenty-first. That all defacers or cor- 
rupters of charters, gifts, grants, bonds, 
bills, wills, contracts and conveyances, or 
that shall deface or falsify any enrolment, 
registry or record, within this province, 
shall make double satisfaction for the same ; 
half whereof shall go to the party wronged, 
and they shall be dismissed of all places of 
trust, and be publicly disgraced as false 
men. 

Twenty-second. That there shall be a 
register for births, marriages, burials, wills, 
and letters of administration, distinct from 
the other registry. 

Twenty-third. That there shall be a 
register for all servants, where their names, 
time, wages, and days of payment, shall be 
registered. 

Twenty-fourth. That all lands and 
goods of felons shall be liable to make satis- 
faction to the party wronged twice the 
value: and, for want of lands or goods, the 
felons shall be bondmen to work in the com- 
mon prison or work-house, or otherwise, 
till the party injured be satisfied. 

Twenty-fifth. That the estates of capi- 
tal offenders, as traitors and murderers, 
shall go one-third to the next kin to the 
sufferer, and the remainder to the next of 
kin to the criminal. 

Twenty-sixth. That all witnesses, com- 
ing or called to testify their knowledge in 
or to any matter or thing in any court, lor 
before any lawful authority within the said 
province, shall there give or deliver in their 
evidence or testimony, by solemnly prom- 
ising to speak the truth, the whole truth, 
and nothing but the truth, to the matter or 
thing in question. And in case any person 
so called to evidence shall be convicted of 
wilful falsehood, such person shall suffer and 
undergo such damage or penalty as the per- 
son or persons against whom he or she bore 
false witness did or should undergo ; and 
shall also make satisfaction to the party 
wronged, and be publicly exposed as a false 
witness, never to be credited in any court, or 



260 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



his motives, and in t\ hat way did he endeavor to accomplish his ends ? The 
opinions of an individual are usually self-explanatory, and their meaning is 
generally to be found in the terms employed by their author to express 
them. They may have been uttered with holy or ignoble motives, with 
benevolent or evil purposes, with a lofty or a grovelling spirit, and yet be 
read and understood alike by all. A good man may commit errors, — a bad 
man maj- speak the truth. A wise man may have his follies, — a foolish one 
his vv'it. In these cases opinion is either at war with character, or character, 



before any magistrate, in the said province. 

Twenty-seventh. And to the end that 
all officers chosen to serve within this prov- 
ince may with more care and diligence 
answer the trust reposed in them, it is 
agreed that no such person shall enjoy 
more than one public office at one time. 

Twenty -eighth. That all children within 
this province, of the age of twelve years, 
shall be taught some useful trade or skill, 
to the end none may be idle, but the poor 
may work to live, and the rich, if they 
become poor, may not want. 

Twenty-ninth. That servants be not 
kept longer than their time, and such as 
are careful be both justly and kindly used 
in their service, and put in fitting equipage 
at the expiration thereof, according to 
custom. 

Thirtieth. That all scandalous and 
malicious reporters, backbiters, defamers 
and spreaders of false news, whether 
against magistrates or private persons, shall 
be accordingly severely punished, as ene- 
mies to the peace and concord of this 
province. 

Thirty-first. That, for the encourage- 
ment of the planters and traders in this 
province, who are incorporated into a 
society, the patent granted to them by 
William Penn, governor of the said prov- 
ince, is hereby ratified and confirmed. 

Thirty- second. * ♦ » 

« « * « « * 



Thirty-third. That all factors or cor- 
respondents in the said province wronging 
their employers shall make satisfaction, and 
one-third over, to their said employers : and 



in case of death of any stich factor or cor- 
respondent, the committee of trade shall 
take care to secure so much of the deceased 
party's estate as belongs to his said respect- 
ive employers. 

Thirty-fourth. That all treasurers, 
judges, masters of the rolls, sherifis, jus- 
tices of the peace, and other officers and 
persons whatsoever, relating to courts or 
trials of causes, or any other service in the 
government; and all members elected to 
serve in Provincial Council and General 
Assembly, and all that have right to elect 
such members, shall be such as profess faith 
in Jesus Clirist, and that are not convicted of 
ill fame, or unsober and dishonest conversa- 
tion, and that are of one and twenty years 
of age at least ; and that all such, so quali- 
fied, shall be capable of the said several 
employments and privileges as aforesaid. 

Thirty-fifth. That all persons living in 
this province, who confess and acknowledge 
the one almighty and eternal God, to be the 
creator, upholder and ruler of the world, 
and that hold themselves obliged in con- 
science to live peaceably and justly in civil 
society, shall in no ways be molested or 
prejudiced for their religious persuasion or 
practice in matters of faith and worship, 
nor shall they be compelled at any time to 
frequent or maintain any religious worship, 
place or ministry, whatever. 

Thirty-sixth. That according to the 
good example of the primitive Christians, 
and for the ease of the creation, every first 
day of the week, called the Lord's day, 
people shall abstain from their common 
daily labor, that they may the better dispose 
themselves to worship God according to 
their understandings. 



CHARACTER OF WILLIAM PENN. 



261 



as a subject, has no connection with the matter upon which an opinion has 
been expressed. Truth is independent of intentions. Character is inde- 
pendent of science. Science is independent of opinions. These general 
propositions, like all others, have their exceptions. An exception is to be 
found in Penn. His theories of government, his system of conduct, and his 
views of public policy, were all characterized by his individual peculiarities. 
These peculiarities were innate. In order to understand his plans, these 
must be studied ; in order to do justice to his character, his motives should 
be understood and appreciated.^ 

The complexity of his public position rendered him alike the subject of 



Thirty-seventh, That as careless and 
corrupt administration of justice draws the 
wrath of God upon magistrates, so the 
wildness and looseness of the people pro- 
voke the indignation of God against a 
country : therefore, that all such offences 
against God as swearing, cursing, lying, 
profane talking, drunkenness, drinking of 
iiealths, obscene words, incest, sodomy, 
rapes, whoredom, fornication, and other 
uncleanness (not to be repeated) ; all trea- 
sons, misprisions, murders, duels, felonies, 
seditions, maims, forcible entries, and other 
violences, to the persons and estates of the 
inhabitants within this province : all prizes, 
stage plays, cards, dice, May-games, 
masques, revels, bull-baitings, cock-fight- 
ings, bear-baitings and the like, which 
excite the people to rudeness, cruelty, 
looseness and irreligion, shall be respect- 
ively discouraged, and severely punished, 
according to the appointment of the gov- 
ernor and freemen in Provincial Council 
and General Assembly, as also all proceed- 
ings contrar}" to these laws, and are not 
here made expressly penal. 

Thirty- eighth. That a copy of these 
laws shall be hung up in Provincial Council, 
and in public courts of justice ; and that 
they shall be read yearly, at the opening of 
every Provincial Council and General 
Assembly, and courts of justice, and their 
assent shall be testified by their standing 
up, after the reading thereof. 

Thirty-ninth. That there shall be at no 
time any alteration of any of these laws, with- 
out the consent of the governor, his heirs or 



assigns, and six parts of seven of the free- 
men, met in Provincial Council and General 
Assembly. 

Fortieth. That all other matters and 
things not herein provided for, which shall 
and may concern the public justice, peace 
or safety of the said province; and the 
raising and imposing taxes, customs, duties, 
or other charges whatsoever, shall be and 
are hereby referred to the order, prudence 
and determination of the governor and 
freemen in Provincial Council and General 
Assembly, to be held from time to time in 
the said province. 

Signed and sealed by the governor and 
freeman aforesaid, the fifth day of the third 
month, called May, one thousand six 
hundred and eighty-two. 

1 Penn had no occasion to follow the 
custom of the Oriental monarchs, who, for 
a long time, were in the habit of hiding 
themselves in gardens and palaces, to avoid 
the conversation of mankind, that they 
might be known to their subjects only by 
their edicts. The reality of a beautiful 
character commends an opinion, if it does 
not sustain it. Tliis was doubtless the view 
of Sir Matthew Hale, who, for a long time, 
it is recorded, concealed the consecration of 
himself to the stricter duties of religion, 
lest, by some flagitious and shameful 
actions, he should bring piety into disgrace. 
His confidence in example seems to have 
been mastered by his doubts of his moral 
strength. Milton, in a letter to a learned 
stanger, by whom he had been visited, with 
great reason congratulates himself upon the 



262 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



suspicion, complaint, and jealousy. He was a Quaker ; but, as a Christian, 
he placed himself iu friendly relations to all^ who opposed his sect, or viewed 
his brethren with compassion or contempt. He had the confidence of Roy- " 
alty,2 Papacy, and Protestantism. At peace with all from principle, he 
endeavored to serve all alike, who were governed b3^ considerations of policy. 
He wished to be loj^al to the king, without doing injustice to the subject. 
He desired to serve the humblest, without opposing the highest. He looked 
on every form of government as entitled to respect for what it professed to 
be ; and, while he was ever ready to advise with all who approached him, 
he neither claimed the right to denounce what he could not approve, nor 
the privilege to participate in measures which met with his approbation. 
He was neutral in all things, except in his relations to Deity .^ In respect 
to these he compromised with none. 

That one who should attempt to do so much, and assume so little, should 
be misapprehended and misrepresented, is in accordance with all human 
experience. A " charity that beareth ail things, believeth all things, hopeth 
all things, endureth all things,"^ is not of frequent occurrence, nor is it 
readily understood. To be at the same time a companion to the king, an 
instrument of power at court, a friend to the people, an adviser to opponents, 



consciousness of being found equal to his 
own character, and having preserved, in a 
private and familiar interview, that reputa- 
tion which Ms works had procured for 
him. — See Br. Johnson's Essay's, Vol. i, 
p. 133. 

1 "Possessing an extraordinary greatness 
of mind," says Bancroft, " vast conceptions, 
remarkable for their universality and pre- 
cision, and 'surpassing in speculative en- 
dowments,' — conversant with men, and 
books, and governments, with various lan- 
guages, and the forms of political combina- 
tions, as they existed in England and France, 
in Holland and the principalities and free 
cities of Germany, — he yet sought the source 
of wisdom in his own soul. Humane by nature 
and by suffering, familiar with the royal fam- 
ily, intimate with Sunderland and Sidney, 
acquainted with Kussell, Halifax, Shaftes- 
bury and Buckingham, as a member of the 
Royal Society, the peer of Newton, and the 
great scholars of his age, he valued the 
promptings of a free mind more than the 
awards of the learned, and reverenced the 
single-minded sincerity of the Nottingham 



shepherd more than the authority of colleges 
and the wisdom of philosophers. And noAv, 
being in the meridian of life, but a year 
older than was Locke, when, twelve years 
before, he had framed a constitution for 
Carolina, the Quaker legislator was come 
to the New World to lay the foundation of 
states." — Hist. U. S., Vol. ii, p. 376. 

2 When near his end, Admiral Penn sent 
one of his friends to the Duke of York, to 
desire of him, as a death-bed request, that 
he would endeavor to protect his son as far 
as he consistently could, and to ask the king 
to do the same. Both expressed them- 
selves as his sincere friends, promising their 
influence in his behalf on all proper 
occasions. 

3 Peter the Great was quite curious to 
know why the Quakers did not pay respect 
to great persons, when in their presence, by 
taking off their hats ; and what use they 
could be in any kingdom, seeing they would 
not bear arms and fight. — Clarkson, Vol. 
I, p. 6. 

4 1 Cor. 13 : 7. 



DEFENCE OF WILLIAM PENN. 



263 



a i^acificator in war, a firm and undeviating opposer of war in seasons of 
peace, is literall}^ to honor tlie example of St. Paul, who was willing to be 
made all things to all men, that he might bj- all means save some.^ Xo 
man was trul}' more independent, — but few more meek or humble. The 
world was onl}' honored when right, though never deserted when wrong. 

To defend Penn, in extenso, against the charges and insinuations of Chal- 
mers,^ or against the dubious compliments of Macaulay,^ is not within the 



1 1 Cor, 9 : 18—23. 

2 See Annals, pp. 640, 642, 648, &c. 

3 " To speak the whole truth concerning 
him," says Macaulay, "is a task which 
requires some courage, for he is rather a 
mythical than a historical person. Rival 
nations and hostUe sects have agreed in 
canonizing him. England is proud of his 
name. A great commonwealth beyond the 
Atlantic regards him with a reverence simi- 
lar to that which the Athenians felt for 
Theseus, and the Romans for Quirinus. 
The respectable society of which he was a 
member honors him as an apostle. By 
pious men of other persuasions he is gener- 
ally regarded as a bright pattern of Chris- 
tian virtue. Meanwhile admirers of a very 
different sort have sounded his praises. 
The Erench pliilosopliers of the eighteenth 
century pardoned what they regarded as his 
superstitious fancies, in consideration for 
his contempt for priests, and of his cos- 
mopolitan benevolence, impartially extend- 
ed to all races and to all creeds. His 
name has thus become, throughout all 
civilized countries, a synonyme for probity 
and philanthropy." — Jfacaulay, Vol. i, 
p. 507. 

** Nor is this reputation," he adds, " alto- 
gether unmerited. Penn was, without 
doubt, a man of eminent virtues. lie had 
a strong sense of religious duty, and a fer- 
Tent desire to promote the happiness of 
mankind. On one or two points of high 
importance he had notions more correct 
than were in his day common, even among 
men of enlarged minds ; and, as the pro- 
prietor and legislator of a province, which, 
being almost uninhabited when it came into 
his possession, afforded a clear field for 
moral experiments, he had the rare good 



fortune of being able to carry his theories 
into practice without any compromise, and 
yet without any shock to existing institu- 
tions. He will always be mentioned with 
honor as the founder of a colony who did 
not, in his dealings with a savage people, 
abuse the strength derived from civiliza- 
tion ; and as a lawgiver, who, in an age of 
persecution, made religious liberty the cor- 
ner-stone of a polity. But his Avritings and 
his life furnish abundant proofs that he was 
not a man of strong sense. He had no 
skill in reading the characters of others. 
His confidence in persons less virtuous than 
himself led him into great errors and mis- 
fortunes. His enthusiasm for one great 
principle sometimes impelled him to violate 
other great principles which he ought to 
have held sacred. Nor was his integrity 
altogether proof against the temptations to 
which it was exposed in that splendid and 
polite, but deeply-corrupted society, with 
which he now mingled. The whole court 
was in a ferment with intrigues of gallantry 
and intrigues of ambition. The trafiic in 
honors, places and pardons, was incessant. 
It was natural that a man who was daily 
seen at the palace, and who was known to 
have free access to majesty, should be fre- 
quently importuned to use his influence for 
purposes which a rigid morality must con- 
demn. The integrity of Penn had stood 
firm against obloquy and persecution. But 
now, attacked by royal smiles, by female 
blandishments, by the insinuating eloquence 
and delicate flattery of veteran diplomatists, 
and courtiers, his resolution began to give 
way. Titles and phrases, against wliich he 
had often borne his testimony, dropped 
occasionally from his hps and his pen. It 
would be well if he had been guilty of 



264 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

province of the present work. ^ It is but just, however, that their views 
should be considered and understood by the political student, inasmuch as 
the subject of their remarks belongs to the political history of America. 
Chalmers was a tory ; and the reader of his allusions to Penn will be at no 
loss to discover his disposition to prepossess others in respect to opinions 
Avhich he had the assurance to hint, without showing a corresponding ability 
cither to commend or to prove, 

Macaulay endeavors to practise a courage which he supplicates as neces- 
sar}' to his task ; and yet, his admissions and concessions are more favorable 
to Penn than his statements and conclusions are against him. Because Penn 
could not succeed in all cases where he was an earnest adviser of the right, 
it does not follow that he should be made responsible for the wrong to which 
he gave no sanction. He filled no official station, and was only one of man}^ 
advisers at court ; and it is not pretended by any writer that he assumed to 
exert more than his share of influence. At no time the originator of iniqui* 
tons plans, it is not a generous spirit that would render him accountable for 
their execution, when his only connection with their authors sprang from 
the high and commendable motive of meliorating evils which he had not the 
power to prevent. It is with no purpose to exempt him from the common 
lot of humanity, the liability to commit errors, that a high position is claimed 
for him as a man of talents, and that opinions are expressed favorable to 
his undoubted integrity. Such conclusions are warranted by the facts of 
history, and they are in harmony with those peculiar manifestations of mind 
for which their subject became so distinguished. But an instructive defence 
of Penn is to be found in his own letter to Popple.^ It was not written with 



nothing worse than such compliances with reply, in pamphlet published by Henry 
the fashions of the world. Unhappily, it Longstreth, Philadelphia, 
cannot be concealed that he bore a chief i William Popple was Secretary to the 
part in some transactions condemned not Lords Commissioners for the Affairs of 
merely by the rigid code of the society to Trade and Plantations. The following 
which he belonged, but by the general sense extracts from the letter of Popple will 
of all honest men. He afterwards solemnly enable the reader to judge of its nature, 
protested that his hands were pure from These extracts are made from the corn- 
illicit gain, and that he never received mencement and the close of the letter, as 
any gratuity from those whom he had showing the wishes of the writer, the other 
obliged, though he might easily, while his portion being a recital of various specula- 
mfluence at court lasted, have made a tions and charges alluded to by Penn in his 
hundred and twenty thousand pounds. To reply. The letter was addressd "to the 
this assertion full credit is due. But bribes Honorable William Penn, Esq., Proprietor 
may be offered to vanity as well as to cupidit}^ and Governor of Pennsylvania, 
and it is impossible to deny that Penn was 

cajoled into bearing a part in some unjusti- " Honored Sir : 

fiable transactions, of which others enjoyed " Though the friendship with which you 

the profits." — Read Macaulay, and Forster's are pleased to honor me doth afford me suffi- 



LETTER OF WILLIAM PENN. 



265 



any calculating motives in regard to policy. It was simply an offering to 
friendship, and made without compromising the true dignity of principle. 
It should be read as an act of justice to its author, as a key to his char- 
acter, and as a document fraught with instruction. It asserts " an impar- 
tial liberty of conscience ;" and, if his requisitions upon humanity are deemed 
in some respects incompatible with the necessities of an efficient government, 
or are regarded as impracticable in the nature of things, it will not be denied 



cient opportunities of discoursing with you 
upon any subject, yet I choose rather at 
this time to offer unto you some reflections 
which have occurred to my thoughts in a 
matter of no common importance. The 
importance of it doth primarily and directly 
respect yourself and your own private con- 
cernments ; but it also consequently and 
effectually regards the king, his govern- 
ment, and even the peace and settlement of 
this whole nation. I entreat you, there- 
fore, to bear with me, if I endeavor in this 
manner to give somewhat more weight unto 
my words than would be in a transient dis- 
course, and leave them with you as a sub- 
ject that requires your retired considera- 
tion. 

" You are not ignorant that the part you 
have been supposed to have had of late 
years in public affairs, though without either 
the title or honor or profit of any public 
office, and that especially your avowed en- 
deavors to introduce among us a general and 
inviolable liberty of conscience in matters 
of mere religion, have occasioned the mis- 
takes of some men, provoked the malice of 
others, and in the end have raised against 
you a multitude of enemies, who have 
unworthily defamed you with such imputa- 
tions as I am sure you abhor. This, I 
know, you have been sufficiently informed 
of, though I doubt you have not made suffi- 
cient reflection upon it. 
"The consciousness of your own innocence 
seems to me to have given you too great a 
contempt of such unjust and ill-grounded 
slanders ; for, however glorious it is and 
reasonable for a truly virtuous mind, whose 
inward peace is founded upon that rock of 
innocence, to despise the empty noise of 
popular reproach, yet even that sublimity 



of spirit may sometimes swell to a reprova- 
ble excess. To be steady and immovable 
in the prosecution of wise and honest reso- 
lutions, by all honest and prudent means, 
is indeed a duty that admits of no excep- 
tion; but, nevertheless, it ought not to 
hinder that, at the same time, there be also 
due care taken of preserving a fair reputa- 
tion. ' A good name,' says the wise man, 
'is better than precious ointment.' * * 

" I could not but be much affected to see 
any such person fall innocently and unde- 
servedly under such unjust reproaches as 
you have done. It is a hard case, and I 
think no man that has any bowels of 
humanity can reflect upon it without great 
relentings. 

" Since, therefore, it is so, and that 
something remains yet to be done — some- 
thing more express, and especially more 
public, than has yet been done — for your 
vindication, I beg of you, dear sir, by all 
the tender efficacy that friendsliip, either 
mine or that of your friends and relations 
together, can have upon you ; by the due 
regard which humanity, and even Chris- 
tianity, obliges jou to have to your reputa- 
tion ; by the duty you owe unto the king ; 
by your love to the land of your nativity, 
and by the cause of universal religion and 
eternal truth, let not the scandal of insin- 
cerity that I have hinted at, lie any longer 
upon you, but let the sense of these obli- 
gations persuade you to gratify your friends 
and relations, and to serve your king, your 
country and your religion, by such a public 
vindication of your honor as your own 
prudence, upon these suggestions, will now 
show you to be most necessary and most 
expedient." 



2CG HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

that he affords a shining example of a democratic spirit, which, if not always 
connected with truth, may sometimes tend to alleviate the evils of error, 
without adding to the means of its perpetuation. 

On receiving this letter, Penn did not take time to consult friends, to stud}' 
expediencj', nor to inquire how he might best define his position and concil- 
iate public opinion. The reply was immediately written and sent to his 
worthy friend. 

" It is now above twenty years," saj^s he, " I thank God, that I have 
not been very solicitous what the world thought of me ; for, since I have 
had the knowledge of religion from a principle ^ in myself, the first and 
main point with me has been to approve myself in the sight of God through 
patience and well-doing, so that the world has not had weight enough with 
me to suffer its good opinion to raise me, or its ill opinion to deject me. 
And if that had been the only motive or consideration, and not the desire 
of a good friend in the name of man}' others, I had been as silent to th}- letter 
as I used to be to the idle and malicious shams of the times ; but, as the 
laws of friendship are sacred with those that value that relation, so I confess 
this to be a principal one with me, not to deny a friend the satisfaction he 
desires, when it may be done without offence to a good conscience." 

That a colony founded by a man of such noble views and sentiments, so 
distinguished for his charity and love of peace, should be made the field for 
perpetual contests in regard to rights and interests, is a curious, and, it may 
be added, an instructive fact. To travel through its history is denominated 
b}' Franklin " a disagreeable journey." It acquired for itself the unenvia- 
ble reputation of being the most unmanageable colony in America.^ Its 



1 He means the spirit in man, which is while you continue in such a temper of 
illuminated by the spirit of God, so tliat the mind, I have very little hopes of good, 
more the former bows itself for instruction either for his majesty's service, or for the 
to the latter, the more the man advances, defence and protection of this unfortunate 
both inwardly and outwardly, to a holy country." — Sparks' Franklin, Vol. hi, 
life. — Clarkson. p. 408. 

2 Gov. Morris, in his message to the The passage alluded to by the governor, 
Assembl}^ 1755, thus concludes : in regard to the members of the Assembly 

" In fine, gentlemen," said he, " I must being " a plain people," was in the following 

remind you that, in a former message, you language : " On the whole, while we find 

said you were a plain people, that had no the governor transforming our best actions 

joy in disputation. But let your minutes into crimes, and endeavoring to render the 

be examined for fifteen years past, not to inhabitants of Pennsylvania odious to our 

go higher, and in them will be found more gracious sovereign and his ministers, to the 

artifice, more time and money spent in British nation, to all the neighboring colo- 

frivolous controversies, more unparalleled nies, and to the army that is to come to 

abuses of your governors, and more unduti- protect us, we cannot look upon him as a 

fulness to the crown, than in all the rest of friend to this country. We are plain 

his majesty's colonies put together. And, people, unpractised in the sleights and arti- 



FRANKLIN'S HISTORICAL REVIEW OF PENNSYLVANIA. 



oa 



■Ji 



early history was written "by Franklin, and first published in London in 
1 759.^ It is written with the earnest spirit natural to an American, and 
must be classed as one of Franklin's most masterly productions. 

Numerous extracts from public documents and the Assembly journals are 
given as the basis of remark ; and no one, who is acquainted with the extra- 
ordinary comprehensiveness and clearness of the views of Franklin, requires 
to be told that the conclusions drawn from the premises are not onl}- philo- 
sophical, but highl}' interesting and instructive." The Democracy of Frank- 



fices of controA'ersj, and have no joy in 
disputation. "We wish the governor of the 
same disposition : and when he shall, as we 
hope he will, on better consideration, alter 
his conduct towards us, and thereby con- 
vince us that he means well to the province, 
we may then be able to transact the public 
business together with comfort both to him 
and ourselves ; of which, till then, we have 
small expectation.'' — Sparks* Franklin, 
Vol. Ill, p. 354. 

And in direct reply to his charges, the 
Assembly say ; 

" The minutes are printed, and in many 
hands, who may judge, on examining them, 
whether any abuses of governors and 
undutifulness to the crown are to be found 
in them." * * * " As to frivolous con- 
troversies, we never had so many of them 
as since our present governor's administra- 
tion, and all raised by himself; and we may 
venture to say that, during that one year 
scarce yet expired, there have been more 
'unparalleled abuses* of this people, and 
their representatives in Assembly tlian in 
all the years put together since the settle- 
ment of tlie province." Ib.,VoL. iii, p. 4.08. 

1 This was entitled ''An Historical 
Review of Constitution and Government of 
Pennsylvania, from its origin, so far as 
regards the several points of controversy 
which have from time to time arisen 
between the several Governors of Penn- 
sylvania and their several Assemblies. 
Pounded on authentic documents." — lb.. 
Vol. Ill, pp. 105-567. 

2 In speaking of this '■'■Uistorical Review" 
by Pranklin, Sparks says : 

" The controA'ersies, which existed for 
many years, between the proprietary gov- 



ernors and the Assemblies of Pennsylvania, 
are not without interest as an important 
branch of the general history of the coun- 
try, and as showing the determined spirit of 
the people in tlieir struggles for liberty. 
As a member of the Assembly for many 
years, and one of the leaders, Franklin had 
taken a conspicuous part against the pro- 
prietaries ; and, when it was at last resolved 
])y the popular party to apply to the king in 
council for a redress of their grievances, he 
was appointed their agent to manage the 
affair. He went to England, for that pur- 
pose, in the summer of 1757. To aid the 
object of his mission, to counteract the 
powerful efforts made against the petition 
by the friends of the proprietaries, and to 
remove the prejudices then existing in Eng- 
land unfavorable to the people of Pennsyl- 
vania, he drew up and published this book 
in London. It produced a strong impres- 
sion, and called forth elaborate answers 
from liis opponents. It was the subject of 
a commendatory article in the Monthly 
Review for July, 1759. In his remarks 
upon it tlie Avriter says ; ' It must be con- 
fessed that the Pennsylvanians have, in our 
author, a most zealous and able advocate. 
His sentiments are manly, liberal, and spirit- 
ed; his style close, nervous, and rhetorical. 
His introduction is well calculated to warm 
his readers in behalf of liberty, of which 
he boasts his clients to have been the brave 
assertors. By a forcible display of oppres- 
pions they have sustained, he inclines into 
pity their condition ; by an enumeration of 
their virtues, he endeavors to remove the 
idea which many have conceived of their 
unimportance.' 

'• In the Criticcd Review for August of 
the Slime year, the book fell into the hands 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



lin was as earnest and true as his genius was practical and brilliant. 
The controversies between the proprietaries, governors and successive 



of the opposite party ; and, although it is 
treated with respect, yet it is censured for 
the tone it assumes in regard to the demands 
of the Pennsylvanians. ' Nay,' says the 
reviewer, ' our author seems to carry his 
notions of liberty and independence so 
high, as to admit of no check or control 
from the government of his mother country.' 

"The value of the work, as an historical 
composition, will be estimated differently, 
according to the bias of the reader's mind 
in regard to the disputed points on which it 
treats. It was professedly written to sus- 
tain the aims of a party, and in this light it 
cannot be looked upon as free from partiality. 
A large portion of the work, however, con- 
sists of FACTS, stated with precision, and 
with such minuteness of citation as to verify 
their accuracy. These facts cannot be 
CONTROVERTED. The reasoniugs and de- 
ductions from them would, of course, take a 
direction in conformity with the author's 
personal convictions and designs. 

*' Every page bears witness to his sin- 
cerity, and to the deep interest he felt in 
the cause of liberty and justice, which his 
countrymen had intrusted to his charge. * 
* * The author is accused of having 
touched the name of the great founder of 
Pennsylvania with too rude a hand. If it 
be so, time has repaired the injury. Facts 
must have their own weight, because they 
are unchangeable and ever-during ; but the 
memory of William Penn cannot be tar- 
nished by unfounded imputations, nor his 
character wounded by misdirected darts of 
party zeal."— lb.. Vol. hi, p. 107. 

Franklin had no motive to asperse the 
character of Penn. He simply and boldly 
vindicated the rights of the people, and at 
the same time clearly pointed out the 
sources of their troubles. Proprietary 
government was the subject of his remark; 
and that he cannot be justly complained of 
for any excess of Democracy may be 
inferred from the nature of the remedy 
which he approves as calculated to relieve 



the people, — "a measure," he says, "that 
had often been proposed in former Assem- 
blies, — a measure that every proprietary 
province in America had, from the same 
causes, found themselves obliged to take, — 
and a measure that had happily succeeded 
wherever it was taken. I mean the 
recourse to an inunediate royal govern- 
ment.'' 

When Franklin, by a small majority, lost 
his seat in the Assembly, which he had 
held for fourteen years, having been annu- 
ally elected, it was found, when the Assem- 
bly met, notwithstanding this defeat, that 
his friends and the friends of his measures 
outnumbered the proprietary party. He 
was again appointed to resume his agency in 
England, and to take charge of a petition to 
the king. The minority protested, giving 
their reasons against his appointment. To 
this protest he made a reply, written at the 
moment the author was preparing to leave 
for Europe. (Vol. iv, p. 143.) The fol- 
lowing extract will tend to illustrate his 
true position and motives : 

"But I have, you say, a 'fixed enmity to 
the proprietaries,' and 'you believe it will 
preclude all accommodation of our disputes 
with them, even on just and reasonable 
terms.' And why do you think I have a 
fixed enmity to the proprietaries? I have 
never had any personal difference with them. 
I am no land-jobber, and therefore have 
never had anything to do with their land 
office or officers. If I had, probably, like 
others, I might have been obliged to truckle 
to their measures, or have had like causes of 
complaint. But our private interests never 
clashed, and all their resentment against 
me, and mine to them, has been on the 
public account. Let them do justice to the 
people of Pennsylvania, act honorably by 
the citizens of Philadelphia, and become 
honest men. My enmity, if that's of any 
consequence, ceases from the ' very mo- 
ment,'' and, as soon as I possibly can, I 
promise to love, honor, and respect them.'* 
— lb.. Vol. iv, p. 150. 



PARTY CONTROVERSIES 07 PENNSTLVANIA. 269 

Assemblies of Pennsylvania, — controversies which so often embarrassed, dis- 



That lie held his opinions oi proprietary 
governments and proprietary governors 
irrespective of persons, will be seen by the 
pertinent language of the following para- 
graph : 

" It is by this time apparent enough, that, 
though tlie proprietary and popular inter- 
ests spring from one and the same source, 
they divide as they descend ; that every 
proprietary governor, for this reason, has 
two masters, — one who gives him his com- 
mission, and one gives him his pay ; that he 
is on his good behavior to both ; that, if he 
does not fulfil with rigor every proprictarj' 
command, however injurious to the prov- 
ince or offensive to the Assembly, he is 
recalled; that if he does not gratify the 
Assembly in what they think they have a 
right to claim, he is certain to live in per- 
petual broils, though uncertain whether 
he shall be enabled to live at all ; and that, 
upon the whole, to be a governor upon such 
terms, is to be the most wretched thing 
alive." — lb., Vol. in, p. 187. 

He could see more nationality in a king 
who protected property as a sovereign, than 
in a governor who protected property as an 
owner. He could see more safety in a 
ruler who derived his strength from his 
subjects, that he might be able to sustain 
them in their just rights, than in a governor 
whose power was based on his interests, 
and whose highest motives would not unfre- 
quently be those of mere policy. He 
became afterwards, as all men know, an 
active partisan against the king and his 
government. He was not opposed to the 
king and his advisers personally, but to 
their oppressions. In both cases he 
showed himself to be a true Democrat, 
and in both cases a true friend to the 
people. 

In his article entitled "CooZ Thoughts 
on the Present Sitvation of our Public 
Affairs" (1704), Franklin, in speaking of 
the disputes between the proprietaries and 
the people, says • 

"It is a fact known to us all that such 
disputes there are, and that they have long 



subsisted, greatly to the prejudice of the 
province, clogging and embarrassing all the 
wheels of government, and exceedingly 
obstructing the public defence, and the 
measures wisely concerted by our gracious 
sovereign for the common security of the 
colonies. I may add it as another fact, 
that we are all heartily tired of these 
disputes. 

"It is very remarkable that disputes of 
the same kind have arisen in all proprie- 
tary governments, and subsisted till their 
dissolution. All were made unhappy by them, 
and found no relief but in recurring finally 
to the immediate government of the crown. 
Pennsylvania and Maryland are the only 
two of the kind remaining, and both at this 
instant agitated by the same contentions 
between proprietary interest and power and 
popular liberty. Through these conten- 
tions the good people of that province are 
rendered equally unhappy with ourselves ; 
and their proprietary, perhaps, more so than 
ours ; for he has no Quakers in his Assem- 
bly to saddle with the blame of those conten- 
tions, nor can he justify himself with the 
pretence that turning to the church has 
made his people his enemies. 

"Pennsylvania had scarce been settled 
twenty years (not even so long) when these 
disputes began between the first proprietor 
and the original settlers. They continued, 
with some intermissions, during his whole 
life. His widow took them up, and contin- 
ued them after his death. Her sons 
resumed them very early, and they still 
subsist." ***«<! suspect, therefore, 
that the cause is radical, interwoven in the 
constitution, and so become the very nature 
of proprietary governments, and will there- 
fore produce its effects as long as such 
governments continue." * * * — lb., 
Vol. IV, pp. 79, 80. 

" Our wise first proprietor and founder 
was fully sensible of this ; and, being desir- 
ous of leaving his people happy, and pre- 
venting the mischiefs that he foresaw must 
in time arise from that circumstance, if it 
was continued, he determined to take it 



270 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



traded and endangered the public service, — were so numerous,^ complicated 
and tedious, that a recital of their details could hardty be justified in this 
connection, either as a gratification to historical curiosity, or as aflTording any 
new illustration of principles. The language of Franklin was no exaggera- 
tion, when he denominated the review of their history " a disagreeable jour- 
ney." The Assembly-, deputy governor and council, were in positions of 
perpetual variance.^ The protracted absence of Penn^ from the province 
rendered a deputy governor necessary and nearly permanent, and, although no 
laws had been proposed to the Assembly but with the most open and liberal 



away, if possible, during' his own lifetime. 
They accordingly entered into a contract 
for the sale of the proprietary right of gov- 
ernment to the crown, and actually received 
a sum in part of the consideration. As he 
found himself likely to die before that con- 
tract (and with it his plan for the happiness 
of his people) could be completed, he care- 
fully made it part of his last will and testa- 
ment, devising the right of the government 
to two noble lords, in trust, that they should 
release it to the crown." — lb., p 125. 

The colonial expenditures of Penn, his 
many acts of private munificence, his occa- 
sional subjection to the note-shavers, had so 
impaired his means, that, in 1709, he was 
compelled to borrow six thousand six hund- 
red pounds, — about thirty thousand dollars, 
— and secure the loan by a mortgage of the 
province. Tliis loan was mostly made np 
by his religious brethren. The transaction 
alluded to by Franklin was with Queen 
Anne, 1712, for the transfer of the govern- 
ment of the province and territory to the 
crown, for which he was to receive twelve 
thousand pounds. A bill for the purpose 
was introduced into Parliament, and a small 
portion of the money advanced. The 
"noble lords " referred to were Earls of 
Oxford, Mortimer, and Pawlet. 

1 In opposing the petition for a royal gov- 
ernment, " the u-iser and better part of the 
province" (self-styled), the proprietary 
party, venture to say, "that this province 
(except from the Indian ravages) enjoys 
the most perfect internal tranquillity." 
After showing the unpardonable error of 
8ucb a remark, Franklin concludes with the 
following characteristic expression: "Al- 



most as well might ships, in an engagement, 
talk of 'the most perfect tranquillity 
between two broad-sides.* — lb., Vol. it, 
p. 137. 

2 The following manifestation, on the part 
of the Assembly, addressed to Gov. Morris, 
affords a specimen of their occasional spirit 
of independence : 

"We are now to take our leave of the 
governor ; and, indeed, since he hopes no 
good from us, nor we from him, it is time 
we should be parted. If our constituents 
disapprove our conduct, a few days will 
give them an opportunity of changing us by 
a new election ; and, could the governor be 
as soon and as easily changed, Pennsylvania 
would, we apprehend, deserve much less 
the character he gives it, of an unfortunate 
country'." These words were not uttered 
with any desire to irritate the governor, nor 
with any inward satisfaction that they could 
be used with impunity. They were used in 
reply to lan^age of a much more excep- 
tionable character, on the part of the gover- 
nor to the representatives of the people. 

3 In a letter to a friend in America, 1689, 
he says: "Europe looks like a sea of 
trouble. Wars are like to be all over it, 
this summer. I strongly desire to see you 
before it be spent, if the Lord will ; and I 
can say, in his sight, that to improve my 
interest with King James for tender con- 
sciences, and that a Christian liberty might 
be legally settled, though against my own 
interest, was that which has separated me 
from you chiefly." 

In alluding to the absence of Penn, 
Franklin says : " His nurshng colony was 
yet in the cradle while it was thus deserted ; 



TROUBLES OCCASIONED BY THE ABSENCE 0¥ FENN. 271 

motives of the proprietary, jet the exercise of his reserved discretion was 
inconsistent with his declaration of principles. The deput}', it is true,^ was 
clothed with his master's power, but not invested with his master's spirit. 
He was advised of his wishes, but he was not equal to the exertion of his 
will. He could represent his firmness, but not his charit}'. He could 
declare his Democracy', but he could not practise its principles. He had his 
instructions in his pocket, but the throbbings of the generous heart that dic- 
tated them were separated from the motives by which thej^ were approved ; 
and the soul of the author was lost in the agent, or in the cupidity of his 
successors. 

The deputy governor, in his endeavors literall}^ to heed the bond of the 
flesh, disregarded the voice of the spirit ; and, while there was no want of 
earnestness to follow the letter, there appeared to be but little capacity- to com- 
prehend the principle. The original charter was discussed, amended, practi- 
call}^ annulled, and renewed. New charters were framed, with new conditions, 
new promises, and impracticable privileges. The laws of Pennsylvania were 
declared in opposition to the constitution of England, and the birthright of 
the British subject was lost in the executive of the province. The rights 
of the people were invaded by the deput}- governor under cover of proprie- 
tary instructions ; ^ and, from the first to the last, the democratic Assemblies 
acted more on the defensive than with an}^ factious motives unfavorable to 
progress. Official communications were embittered by criminations and 



consequently stood in need of all expedients Assembly thus conclude a message to the 

to facilitate its growth, and all preserva- governor : 

lives against disorders." "Upon the whole, from what we have 

said, we presume it evidently appears that 

1 " Plantation-governors," says Frankhn, proprietary instructions and restrictions 
''were frequently transient persons, of upon their governors, as they have occa- 
broken fortunes, greedy of money, desti- sionally been made a part of the public 
tute of all concern for those they governed, records at different times, have been judged 
often their enemies, and endeavoring not and resolved by our governor, council and 
only to oppress but defame them, and the representatives of the people, either — 
thereby render them obnoxious to their 1. Inconsistent with the legal prerogative 
sovereign, and odious to their fellow-sub- of the crown settled by act of Parliament, 
jects." — Sparks' Franklin, Vol. hi, p. 447. 2. Or, a positive breach of the charter of 

2 The right of proprietaries to give pri- privileges to the people. 3. Or, absurd in 
rate instructions to their deputies was a theif conclusions, and therefore impractica- 
subject much discussed in the Assembly of ble. 4. Or, void in themselves. There- 
Pennsylvania. The absurdity of such an fore, whenever the governor shall be pleased 
assumption, where a charter had been to lay his proprietary instructions before 
granted and received, and where laws were us for our examination, and if then they 
to be enacted in accordance with the pro- should appear to be of the same kind as 
visions of that charter, and not against the heretofore, his good judgment should lead 
spirit of the constitution of England, is him to conclude that such ' considerations 
almost self-evident. On this subject, the in life ' as our allegiance to the crown, or 



272 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



recriminations, and the usual courtesies of discussions gave way to the abu- 
sive epithets of passion. The governor was accused of briber}-/ the Assem- 
bly of treason.2 The one was characterized as indecent, the other as dis- 
respectful. The ad\dce of the Assemblj^ was opposed when offered, and 
disregarded when asked. Governors became dictators, and demanded action 
upon information which they withheld, and instructions in secret became 
laws b}' proclamation. They discovered haste in the violation of principle, 
and apathy in responding to the requisitions of dut}'. The government 
became " eccentrical and unnatural." ^ Immoralities were said to abound 
everywhere, and vice was encouraged by examples of the rulers, instead of 



the immediate safety of the colony, &c., are 
sufficient inducements for him to disobey 
them, notwithstanding any penal bonds to 
the contrary, we shall cheerfully continue 
to grant such further sums of money for 
the king's use as the circumstances of the 
country may bear, and in a manner we 
judge least burthensome to the inhabitants 
of this province." — lb., Vol. hi, p. 316. 

1 In reply to the governor concerning the 
expediency of showing a due regard to the 
proprietaries and their interest, the Assem- 
bly comment as follows : " That is, as we 
understand it, though the proprietaries have 
a deputy here, supported by the province, 
who is, or ought to be, fully empowered to 
pass all laws necessary for the service of 
the country; yet, before we can obtain 
such laws, we must facilitate their passage 
by pnying money for the proprietaries which 
they ought to pay, or in some other shape 
make it their particular interest to pass 
them. We hope, however, that if this 
practice has ever been begun, it will never 
be continued in this province; and that, 
since we have an undoubted right to such 
laws, we shall always be able to obtain them 
from the goodness of our sovereign, without 
going to market for them to a subject." — 
lb., Vol. hi., p. 342. 

2 The deputy governors constantly as- 
sumed the authority to dictate to the Assem- 
bly the manner of raising money and mak- 
ing appropriations. The Assembly as con- 
stantly resisted the exercise of such a 
power. In reply to Gov. Hamilton respect" 
ing this right, the Assembly employed the 



following emphatic language : *' The House 
are not inclined to enter into any dispute 
with the governor on the subject of his pro- 
posed amendments to the money bill, as 
the representatives of the people have an 
undoubted right to judge and determine not 
only of the sum to be raised for the use of 
the crown, but of the manner of raising it." 
At a subsequent period, when Gov. 
Morris allowed his passion to cloud his 
judgment in the discussion of this subject 
with the Assembly, he said : " The offering 
money in a way and upon terms that you 
very well knew I could not, consistent with 
my duty to the crown, consent to, is in my 
opinion, trifling with the king's commands, 
and amounts to a refusal to give at all ; and 
I am satisfied will be seen in this light by 
my superiors ; who, by your bill above- 
mentioned, which I shall lay before them, 
and by the whole of your conduct since you 
have been made acquainted with the designs 
of the French (against the English colo- 
nies), will be convinced that your resolu- 
tions are and have been to take advantage of 
your country's danger to aggrandize and 
render permanent your own power and 
authority, and to destroy that of the crown. 
That it is for this purpose, and to promote 
your scheme of future independency, you 
are grasping at the disposition of all public 
money, and at the power of filling all the 
offices of government, especially those of 
the revenue," &c. — Sparks' Franklin^ Vol. 
Ill, p. 342. 
8 lb.. Vol. hi, p. 422. 



PROPRIETARIES CLAIM EXEMPTION FROM TAXATION. 



273 



being checked by their authority.^ The conservative part}' was content with 
no control but that of tyranny ; and the sprit of royalty- was invoked, as 
more liberal than that of Mammon. It had no grace to offer, — it saw 
nothing to approve. Freedom was either too great, or restraint too little. 
Justice was either too distant, or government too weak. In its policy' monop- 
olies were the first to be protected, — the people the last to be considered. 
Liberty was to be made subservient to property. All property was to be taxed 
but that the of proprietaiies,'* and protection was to be extended to the rich 



1 In their long statement of grievances to 
the proprietary (1704) the Assembly say : 
*' And we further entreat that effectual care 
he taken for the suppression of vice, which, 
to our great trouble, we hare to acquaint 
thee, is more rife and common amongst us 
since the arrival of thy deputy and son, 
especially of late, than was ever known 
before. Nor are we capable to suppress it, 
wliilst it is connived at, if not encouraged, 
by authority ; the mouths of the more sober 
magistrates being stopped by the said late 
order about oaths, and the governor's licens- 
ing ordinaries not approven by the magis- 
trates of the city of Philadelphia, and the 
roast cliiefly ruled by such as are none of the 
most exemplary for virtuous conversation." 
*' The loose conduct and dissipated life 
of Evans " (deputy governor 1703-4 to 
1708-9), says Hildreth, ''who had as a 
companion for his revels William Perm the 
younger, the proprietary's eldest son, gave 
the complainants a decided advantage. 
Penn ascribed his son's ruin to his residence 
in Pennsylvania; and that son publicly 
renounced Quakerism, giving for a reason 
the ingratitude of the colonists toward his 
father."— Vol. ii, p. 244. 

^ When it was represented by the deputy 
governors that a tax was necessary for the 
defence of the province against immediate 
and threatening dangers, they claimed 
that the proprietaries should be exempted 
from paying their proportion of it. "The 
Assembly," says Franklin, "found the pro- 
[^rietaries in possession of an immense 
estate, in lands and quit-rents. This estate 
was as much endangered as any other 
estate, and was to be defended in common 
with the rest. They did not think the 
18 



immensity of it gave it any title to any 
exemption of any kind, and they found no 
such exemption specified in any of their 
charters. 

" Proceeding, therefore, by the rules of 
reason and equity, as well as policy, they 
taxed the whole land alike ; and subjected 
the proprietaries, as landholders, to a pro- 
portional sliare of all the claims and impo- 
sitions which their deputy would have 
exempted them from as governors-in-chief, 
and was so strenuous for imposing on the 
people alone; — and this one bitter ingredi- 
ent was mors 'in olid, — death in the pot." — 
Vol. Ill, p. 371. 

" On one side was the proprietary fam- 
ily," says Day, "with their feudal preroga- 
tives, their manors of ten thousand acres, 
their quit-rents and baronial pomp, alien- 
ated in their sympathies from the colony, 
preferring the luxuries of aristocratic life 
in England to the unostentatious manners 
of the New World, ruling the colony by 
capricious deputies, and ever refusing to be 
taxed for the common defence of the coun- 
try. On the other side was a hardy and en- 
thusiastic band of colonists, free in this New 
World to develop the great principles of 
civil liberty, then just dawning upon the 
human mind ; willing to bear their share of 
the primary burdens of the frontier wars 
against the encroachments of the Erench, 
provided the proprietaries would consent to 
be equally taxed ; a part of them burning 
to take up arms in defence of the colony, 
while the Quakers and other non-resistant 
sects were equally zealous to promote 
peace." — Hist. Coll. Pa. 

It was decided, in 1762, that the pro- 
prietary estates should be taxed. Thus 



274 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

at the expense of the poor. The majorit}^ were to have no honor ; the peo- 
ple no iiosition in comparison with gentlemen of rank ; and representatives 
were to be reduced, and yet no complaints were deemed reasonable, — no 
l^etitions for reforms respectable. 

But this dismal exhibition of party warfare, — of an oligarchy against a 
Democrac}', — had its cheering aspects, its redeeming principles, its happy 
results. 

Though severel}' tried by the t3Tanny of the governors, the people were 
patient, true, and firm.^ Their good will was above the influences of pas- 
sion, and their sense of justice superior to a vindictive policj'. The Assem- 
bly was permanently democratic. Prompt to cooperate in all measures of 
reform, to require the administration of justice, to protect the rights and 
interests of the colonists, to hold sacredl}' the prerogatives of conscience, — 
the charter of the colony, and the magna charta of England, — they did not 
hesitate boldlj^ to declare their principles, to oppose monopolies, to repel the 
presumptions of aristocracy, and at all times to prefer essential liberty to tem- 
porarj' safet3\^ The}' were true to the best good of their country and to them- 
selves, and their posterity will not fail to be true to them. That they occa- 
sionally conjmitted errors is not to be denied. Comparative!}', their errors 
were slight and seldom. They were rather those of passion, provoked b}" 
acts of oppression, than of a selfish spirit against common equity or the 
acknowledged principles of justice. 

The histor}' of Penns3'lvania demonstrates how much may be accomplished 



was taken away a source of conten- either bullied or wheedled the inhabitants 

tion which had embroiled the Assembly and out of the privileges they were born to ; 

governors for many years. This was ac- nay, they have actually avoAved this perfid- 

complished chiefly by the influence of ious purpose, by avowing and dispersing 

Dr. Franklin, during his first mission to those pamphlets in which the said privileges 

England. are insolently, wickedly and foolishly, pro- 

i"It is apparent," says Franklin, "the nounced repugnant to government, the 

Assemblies of that province (Pennsylvania) sources of confusion, and such as, halving 

have acted from the beginning on the answered the great end of causing an expe- 

defensive only." * * * " It is appar- ditious settlement, for which alone they 

ent, on the other hand, that these proprie- were granted, might be resumed at pleasure, 

taries have acted an offensive part ; have as incompatible with the dictatorial power 

set up unwarrantable claims ; have adhered they now challenge and would fain exer- 

to them by instructions yet more unwarrant- cise. 

able; have availed themselves of tlie dangers "And, this being the truth, the plain 

and distresses of the province, and made it truth, and nothing but the truth, there is no 

their business (at least, their deputies have) need to direct the censures of the public, 

to increase the terrors of the times, pur- which, on proper information, are always 

posely to unhinge the present system ; and, sure to fall in the right place." — Sparks* 

by the dint of assumptions, snares, men- Franklin, Vol. hi, pp. 528, 529. 

aces, aspersions, tumults and every other 2 in an address from the Assembly to 

unfair practice whatsoever, would have Deputy Gov. Morris occurs the following 



WHAT THE HISTORY OF PENNSYLVANIA TEACHES. 275 

b^^ pure good will, and at the same time how much may be lost b}' mistaking 
good nature for benevolence, and a theoretic peace for securit3\ The colony- 
was subject to perpetual change in legislation ; the adjustments of one day 
became the topics of dispute the next ; and what was wanting in magnitude 
of interest was amply supplied bj^ the niceties of distinction. The govern- 
ment had been formed in the confidence that virtue would be chosen for its 
beaut}", peace for its enjoyments, and prosperity for its comforts. But the 
passions of men exist independent of conventional laws. However high the 
standard of moral purpose, men will be found to stand in relation to all the 
degrees of the scale, and to represent, in every variety of combination, all 
the natural tendencies of the soul. As, in the natural world, the rising sun 
may beam upon a vaulted sky in peace with all the elements, and ride, at its 
setting, upon the clouds of the tempest, — so, in the universe of truth, the 
holiest resolutions, with a successful beginning, may encounter error, in the 
end, for which they were not adapted to combat, and obstacles of a nature 
beyond their power to remove. In his endeavors to save the colony from 
the annoyances of individual cupidity, and the convulsions of party spirit, 
Penn widened the source of their origin by adopting a theory which was in 
advance of experience, and multiplied new issues by attempting to avoid old 
ones. His truth was above his wisdom, and his wisdom was above his 
knowledge. He desired more than he understood, and accomplished less 
than he designed. His spiritual habits of faith in the goodness of God 
inspired a benevolent confidence in the goodness of man. He excited jeal- 
ousy by his equanimity of temper, and by attempting to avoid contention he 
encountered the spirit of mistrust. In his conceptions of the conditions of 
national existence, he failed to discover that a causative diversit}- was com- 
patible with national unit}^ His plans were too great for his means of exe- 
cution, and his hopes in the agency of others were measured by the standard 
of endeavor which existed as a shining light within himself. While living, 
the government of his colony was chiefly administered by agents of question- 
able wisdom ; and when dead, by kindred successors, more mercenar}^ in char- 
acter than skilled in public aflTairs or distinguished for private virtue. 

But, as Maryland exhibited Democracy to be controlled by a Papist, as 
the originator of measures for the consideration of the people,— Pennsylvania 
gave an example of Democracy' in a Quaker, by whom the people were 
empowered to make legislative propositions for the action of his judgment, 



happy passage : " Those who would give passage to be found better worth the vene- 

up essential liberty to purchase a little tem- ration of freemen than this ; nor could a 

porary safety deserve neither liberty nor lesson of more utility have been laid at that 

safety." crisis before the Pennsylvanians." — Vol. 

" There is not in any volume," says in, p. 429. 
Franklin, " the sacred writings excepted, a 



276 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and the exercise of his prerogative. In the one case sovereignty diverged 
from a single mind to the people ; in the other, it converged from the people 
to a single mind.^ In Maryland toleration was a policy ; in Pennsylvania, a 
principle. One attempted to practice Democracy without admitting a the- 
ory that harmonized its principles ; the other endeavored to force a theory 
embracing elements which rendered its execution impracticable. Both exper- 
iments developed the same truths, and exposed the same errors, though in 
processes commenced in opposite directions, and combining different elements. 
The people of Maryland, in seeking their interests, felt the restraining hand 
of their sovereign lord at the beginning, and political progress was slow ; 
the people of Pennsylvania began with the utmost freedom in the business 
of their settlement, but did not discover the limits of their sovereignty^ in the 
person of their proprietary, until they combined to exercise their rights, and 
to demand a field for activity in some proportion to their magnitude. Sover- 
eignty in both cases was based upon property, and weighed down by heredi- 
tary conditions ; and laws, however proposed, were subject to the negative 
of the governor. The founders of both colonies were democratic in their 
views, but their confidence in theorj^ was greater than their hopes in prac- 
tice. So far, however, as their practice was in harmony with the principles 
of Democrac}', their plans succeeded, and the people were prosperous and 
happy. In Maryland the Protestant was taught toleration by a Papist, and 
in Pennsylvania the necessity of a military defence was taught b}^ a Quaker. 
Sectarians combined to promote intellectual freedom ; and, while the friends 
of peace and war united in counsel to lessen the domain of passion, they 
harmonized conflicting opinions in respect to the active prerogatives of prin- 
ciple. War, in the defence of just rights, was seen to be the conservator 
of peace ; feudalism surrendered to royalty, and the splendid presumptions 
of royalty gave way to the plain and undisguised truths of Democracy. In 



1 "But for the hereditary office of pro- derived from the export of tohacco, the 

prietary," says Bancroft, "Pennsylvania staple of Maryland; and his colony was 

had been a representative Democracy. In burdened with taxes. A similar revenue 

Maryland, the council was named by Lord was offered to William Penn, and declined; 

Baltimore ; in Pennsylvania, by the people, and tax-gatherers were unknown in his 

In Maryland, the power of appointing mag- province." * * * 

istrates, and all, even the subordinate exec- Penn "established a Democracy, and was 

utive ofScers, rested solely with the propri- himself a feudal sovereign. The two ele- 

etary ; in Pennsylvania, William Penn ments in the government were incompati- 

could not appoint a justice or a constable, ble ; and, for ninety years, the civil history 

Every executive officer, except the highest, of Pennsylvania is but the account of the 

was elected by the people or their represent- jarring of these opposing interests, to which 

atives, and the governor could perform no there could be no happy issue but in popu- 

public act but with the consent of the lar independence."— Vol. ii, pp. 389, 393. 
council. Lord Baltimore had a revenue 



MASSACHUSETTS, CONNECTICUT, RHODE ISLAND. 



277 



the nnnumbered conflicts of party, the triumphs of the people were as 
glorious as the}* proved to be complete. 
In regard to 

MASSACHUSETTS,! C0NNECTICUT,2 AND RHODE ISLAND,3 

the tlu-ee colonies which, at the time of the EeA'oliition, were under charter 
governments, little will be said in this connection. The principles of the 



1 The first settlement within the territory 
of Massachusetts was made by the Pilgrims, 
at Plymouth, December 21, 1620. This 
settlement was called Plymouth Colony, 
and afterward Old Colony, to distinguish it 
from the Prorince of Massachusetts Bay 
which was for a time a distinct government. 
The settlement of the Province of Massa- 
chusetts Bay commenced in 1628, the birth- 
year of Salem. In 1629 a royal charter 
was granted to this colony. In 1630 
Boston, Dorchester, Boxbury, Cambridge 
and Watertown, were settled. In 1634: a 
representative government was established. 
In 1643, in consequence of the dangers 
which threatened the English settlements 
from the hostilities of the Indians, Dutch 
and French, the colonies of Massachusetts, 
Plymouth, Connecticut and New Haven, 
formed themselves into a confederacy, by 
the name of the United Colonies of New 
England. This union continued forty 
years. In 1652 the Province of Maine was 
detached from Massachusetts, but was re- 
stored in 1677. In 1680 New Hampshire 
was detached from Massachusetts. In 
1686 the charter of Massachusetts was taken 
away by James II., and Sir Edmund 
Andros was sent out from England as Gov- 
ernor of all New England. He proved to 
be such a tyrant that the people of Boston 
deposed him in 1689, and sent him to Eng- 
land. The Provisional Government 
assembled June 5, 1689, which was admin- 
istered under a Council of Safety till 1692, 
when a new government was organised 
under a new charter, dated October 7, 
1691. This charter, granted by WiUiam 
and Mary, extinguished the Old Colony 
government, and united Massachusetts, 



Plymouth, Maine, Nova Scotia, under one 
administration. 

2 The territory of Connecticut was grant- 
ed by the Council at Plymouth to the Earl 
of Warwick, in 1630. It was transferred 
in 1631 to Lord Say and Seal, Lord Brooks 
and others. In 1633 the Dutch of New 
Amsterdam built a fort at Hartford, and 
the English from Plymouth established a 
trading-house at Windsor the same year. 
In 1635 a party from Massachusetts Bay 
settled at "Windsor, Hartford, and Wethers- 
field. In 1638 Eaton, Davenport and 
others, from Boston, began the settlement 
of New Haven, where they established a 
separate government. In 1639 the towns 
on the Connecticut wliich had been under 
the government of Massachusetts estab- 
Hshed a government of their own. In 1650 
a treaty was made with the Dutch by wMch 
the boundaries between the English settle- 
ments and the territories of New Amster- 
dam were adjusted. In 1662 a royal char- 
ter was granted to the colony of Connecti- 
cut, and New Haven became united to it in 
1665. In 1687 Andros went to Hartford, 
and demanded the charter ; but it was con- 
veyed away and hidden in a tree, wliich 
was afterwards called Charter Dale. The 
Governor of New York attempted to estab- 
lish liis authority over the militia of this 
colony, but was promptly resisted by the 
people. 

3 Ehode Island was founded by Roger 
Williams. Williams was banished by 
Massachusetts in 1635, and in 1636 he 
obtained a grant of land from the Indians, 
and commenced a settlement the same year. 
It was named the Providence Plantation. 
A perfectly democratic government was 



278 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Puritans have already been noticed, and the issues of party will appear m 
almost every question of policy that was discussed by the colonies in com- 
mon. The progress of Democracy in New England may be seen in the dif- 
ferent charters granted at successive periods. A government by charter 
implies distinct purposes and character. In these examples, afforded by the 
charters of the New England colonies, the evidence was not without its real- 
it}^ When a monarch concedes freedom, upon principle, to men of principle, 
he lights a fire that can never be quenched, — he surrenders a power that 
can never be returned. 

The great heart of democratic principles was in New England ,i and from 
this point they extended to every portion of the continent. Still the object 
of suspicious fears in England, the people of Massachusetts began their set- 
tlement doubting both the king and the Parliament. Thej^ asserted a sover- 
eignty in their phj^sical weakness, and defended it in the might of their prin- 
ciples. This sovereignty was multiplied and explained in Rhode Island^ and 



established. In 1638 Portsmouth was set- 
tled by William Coddington and others 
from Massachusetts. Newport was settled 
in 1639. The Providence and Rhode 
Island Plantations, having no charter, were 
not admitted into the New England confed- 
eracy till 1643. A charter was obtained of 
Parliament, in 1644, which united the two 
plantations under one government. In 
1647 the first General Assembly met at 
Portsmouth. Charles II. granted a new 
charter in 1663. 

1 The name of New England was first 
given, in 1614, by the famous Captain John 
Smith, to North Virginia, lying between 
the degrees of forty-one and forty-five. 
New England was supposed (1621) to be an 
island, by Cushman and Winslow. Even 
as late as 1724, the inefiicient minister of 
British America, the Duke of Newcastle, 
had letters from the department addressed 
to "the island of New England." (See 

Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrims, pp. 
80, 255 ; Bancroft, Vol. iv, p. 19.) New 
England, as referred to in the text, is intend- 
ed to embrace only Massachusetts, Rhode 
Island, Connecticut, and New Hampshire. 

2 The following "simple instrument," 
says Professor Knowles, "which combines 
the principles of a pure Democracy and of 
unrestricted reUgious liberty, was the basis 



of the first government in Providence," 
doubtless drawn up by Roger "Williams : 

"We, whose names are here under- 
written, being desirous to inhabit in the 
town of Providence, do promise to submit 
ourselves, in active or passive obedience, 
to all such orders or agreements as shall be 
made for public good of the body, in an 
orderly way, by the major consent of the 
present inhabitants, masters of families, 
incorporated together into a township, and 
such others whom they shall admit into 
the same, only in civil things.'' 

In 1637-8, when John Clarke and others 
(nineteen in all) were required to leave 
Massachusetts, and decided to settle at 
Aquetneck (now Rhode Island), they made 
the following declaration- "We, whose 
names are underwritten, do swear, sol- 
emnly, in the presence of Jehovah, to 
incorporate ourselves into a body politic; 
and, as he shall help us, we submit our 
persons, lives and estates, unto our Lord 
Jesus Christ, the King of Kings and Lord 
of Lords, and to all those most perfect and 
absolute laws of his given us in his holy 
word of truth, to be guided and judged 
thereby." 

The first General Assembly met May 19, 
1647. They agreed upon a body of laws, 
chiefly taken from the laws of England. 



FATHERS OF CONNECTICUT REPUBLICANS. 



279 



Connecticut ; ^ and the democrats who were sent awaj' to promote the internal 
harmony of Massachusetts became the champions of liberty in new circles 



In the introduction of this code, the form of 
government adopted is called *'Democrat- 
ICAL ; that is to say, a government held by 
the free and voluntary consent of all or the 
greater part of the free inhabitant*." This 
code of civil regulations thus concludes : 
" Otherwise than thus, what is herein for- 
bidden, all men may walk as their con- 
sciences persuade them, every one in the 
name of his God. And let the lambs of the 
■ Most High walk, in this colony, without 
molestation, in the name of Jehovah their 
God, for ever and ever." 

*' I have acknowledged" (it was the dec- 
laration of Eoger WilUams), ("and have 
and shall endeavor to maintain) the rights 
and properties of every inhabitant of Rhode 
Island, in peace; yet, since there is so 
much sound and noise of purchase and pur- 
chasers, I judge it not unreasonable to 
declare the rise and bottom of the planting 
of Rhode Island in the fountain of it. It 
-was not the price nor money that could 
have purchased Rhode Island. Rhode 
Island was obtained by love," &c. — See 
Knowles' Roger Williams. 

The second charter, granted by Charles 
II., 1663, declared that "no person within 
the said colony, at any time hereafter, shall 
he anywise molested, punished or disquieted, 
or called in question for any differences in 
opinion, in matters of religion, and do not 
actually disturb the civil peace of our said 
colony." 

Cotton Mather says (Magnalia, b. vii, c. 
Ill, § 12, 1695) that Rhode Island colony 
*'has been a colluvies of Antinomians, 
li'amilists, Anabaptists, Antisabbatarians, 
Arminians, Socinians, Quakers, Ranters, — 
everything in the world but Roman Catho- 
lics and true Christians, though of the latter, 
I hope, there have bcaen more than of the 
former among them." 

Rhode Island will be considered in 
another connection. 

1 " The fathers of Connecticut," says 
Trumbull, " as to politics, were republicans. 
They rejected with abhorrence the doc- 



trines of the divine right of kings, passive 
obedience, and non-resistance. With Sid- 
ney, Hampden and other great writers, they 
believed that all civil power and govern- 
ment was originally in the people. Upon 
these principles they formed their civil con- 
stitutions. — Vol. I, p. 284. 

The charter "conferred on the colo- 
nists," says Bancroft, "unqualified power to 
govern themselves. They were allowed to 
elect all their own oflScers, to enact their 
own laws, to administer justice without 
appeals to England, to inflict punishments, 
to confer pardons, and, in a word, to exer- 
cise every power, dehberative and active. 
The king, far from reserving a negative on 
the acts of the colony, did not even require 
that the laws should be transmitted for his 
inspection ; and no provision was made for 
the interference of the Enghsh government 
in any event whatever. Connecticut was 
independent except in name. Charles II. 
and Clarendon thought they had created a 
close corporation, and they had really sanc- 
tioned a Democracy." — Vol. ii, p. 55. 

Trumbull intimates that they were early 
troubled with apprehensions of consolida- 
tion. He says: "One of Hie principal 
reasons which these colonists assigned for 
their removing to Massachusetts was, that 
they should be more out of the way and 
trouble of a general Governor of New 
England, who, at this time (1G58), was 
an object of great fear in all the planta- 
tions." — (Vol. I, p. 96.) Professor Kings- 
ley says: "The first emigrants to Con- 
necticut considered themselves under the 
jurisdiction of Massachusetts, till, after the 
settlement of three towns, they formed 
themselves into an independent body politic. 
The first planters of New Haven recog- 
nized in their acts no human authority, 
foreign to tliemsclves. They appear to 
have studiously avoided' any mention of 
their native country, or any allusion to the 
question of allegiantie to the King of Eng- 
land. This matter they left to be deter- 
mined afterwards as circumstances should 



280 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



of sovereignty, and stood, as it were, the sentinels of Democrac}', to guard 
the outposts of the Puritans. The vigilance of Democracy is ever in advance 
of its dangers.^ Its jealousies give birth to its securities, and its action per- 
manenc}' to possessions. When the people of Massachusetts began to dis- 
cover new sources of enterprise in extension of territor^',^ and safety in 



render a decision expedient or necessary." 

* * * "Soon after their arriyal at 
Quinnipiac, at the close of a ' day of fasting 
and prayer,' they formed and subscribed 
what they denominated a ' plantation cove- 
nant.' By this instrument they engaged, 

* that as in matters that concern the gather- 
ing and ordering of a church, so also in all 
public offices which concern civil order, as 
choice of magistrates and officers, making 
and repealing laws, dividing allotments of 
inheritance, and all things of like nature, 
they would all of them be ordered by the 
rules which the Scripture held forth to 
them.'" * * * " The government thus 
instituted was, in fact, a pure Democracy, 
professedly controlled by the great princi- 
ples of justice and equity, as these principles 
are illustrated in the book of Revelation." 

* * * "Property was not required to 
contitute a voter. Personal character, as 
developed in church membership, was the 
only ground on which any individual was 
admitted to the exercise of political power." 
According to "the New Haven code, the 
clergy, so far from having any civil power, 
could not even perform the marriage cere- 
mony, this being placed exclusively in the 
hands of the magistrates. The church was 
organized on principles strictly independ- 
ent, — a sort of spiritual Democracy, in 
which, if there were any lords, they were 
'lords brethren.'" — See Kingsley's Hist. 
Discourse, 1838. 

How Connecticut acquired the reputation 
of an intolerant legislation, it is difficult to 
say. It is an error of early origin, and its 
injustice was asserted by intelligent writers 
more than a century ago. " It may be said, 
without fear of contradiction," says Pro- 
fessor Kingsley, "from any one who knows 
whereof he affirms, that no example can be 
.produced, in the whole history of Christian 



nations, where a community unanimous in 
their religion, and urged by so many induce- 
ments to maintain it, have changed their 
laws, and made every concession desired, 
more promptly, fully and cheerfully, than 
the people of Connecticut." — {Hist. JDis., 
p. 51.) The colonial records of Connecti- 
cut fully justify the strong language of Pro- 
fessor Kingsley, See Appendix I. 

1 It is an interesting fact, and worthy to 
be noted, that Cradock proposed, as early 
as 1629, that "the chief government of tlio 
Plantation (of Massachusetts Bay), together 
with the patent, should be settled in New- 
England." After several deliberate dis- 
cussions (in London), such a removal was 
voted. That they feared opposition to such 
a movement, may be inferred from the 
circumstance that they were ' ' desired pri- 
vately and seriously to consider " the sub- 
ject, " and to set down their particular 
reasons in writing pro et contra, and to 
produce the same to the next General 
Court." — See Young's Chronicles of Mass. ^ 
p. 85. 

Another example of foresight and prortipt 
action on the part of the Pilgrims, in 1624, 
was the case of "the minister, Mr. John 
Lyford, whom a faction of the adventurers 
send (according to Gov. Bradford) to hinder 
Mr. Robinson." Lyford was suspected, 
watched, and detected in a correspondence 
adverse to the harmony of the colony. — lb., 
p. 20. 

2 In 1689 "the government of Massa- 
chusetts," says Marshall, "induced by the 
rapidity with which the colony had attained 
to its present strength to form sanguine 
hopes of future importance, instituted an 
inquiry into the extent of their patent, with 
a view to the enlargement of territory."— 
Hist, of the Colonies, p. 108. 



RELIGIONISTS AND NOT POLITICIANS. 281 

toleration, they ceased to be conserrative for protection, and no longer 
delaj-ed their public avowal of confidence in Democracy for progress. Con- 
fident in principles, they looked for power in possessions. 

In their frequent controversies with the British government, its agents, 
and party adherents, the}' were not backward in declaring their rights, nor 
timid in expressing their opinions. Their controversies not onl}' concerned 
their own interests, bat interests which were common to all the other 
colonies. In most respects, what concerned one concerned all. Colonial 
polic}' gradually became continental, and what commenced in the private 
circles of the church was transferred to the halls of legislation. Local 
parties, in respect to interest, were abated ; and Democracy' began to unite 
its forces as a party of principle, in respect to freedom. Democracj^ had 
commenced the settlement of the continent ; it remained for Democracy to 
extend its principles and to defend them. The progress of Democratic 
principles, and the accumulating evidence of an organized part}' in America, 
were facts hardly perceptible either to the people or to the rulers of England ; 
and as they counted strength in numbers, they entertained no fears. Some 
prophesied, but no one believed. Some became accusers, but few doubted. 
Some looked for trouble, but no one predicted resistance. All knew of 
disputes, but no one anticipated rebellion.^ 

It is certainly to be regarded as a favorable circumstance to the cause of 
freedom, that the colonists were at first looked upon as religionists, rather 
than politicians ; and that they frequently had test questions, in respect to 
control, which neither secured the sj^mpath}' nor excited the hostility of 
the King, the Church, or the Parliament. 

Indeed, the colonists were early reported to government as intolerant 
conservatives, and but few could have indulged even in moderate apprehen- 
sions that their excesses in claiming too much freedom were of any particular 
consequence anywhere. 

It was well understood that there was no particular affection between the 
Stuarts and the colonists, and a mutual watchfulness between them was to 
be expected. The colonists were no admirers of monarch}', and they had 
given frequent occasions for suspicion that they favored republican tendencies. 
The existing relations between the Church of England and the Puritans 
were such as to promise no peace where power was in the process of accu- 



1 Jer. Dummer, who ■wrote "A Defence the course of some years, to throw off their 

of the New England Charters," first pub- dependence on the nation, and declare 

lished in 1721, in reply to apprehensions themselves a free state, if not curbed in 

which had been expressed, "that their (the time, by being made entirely subject to the 

colonies') increasing numbers and wealth, crown," — thus writes : "Whereas, in truth, 

joined to their great distance from Great there is nobody, though but little acquaint- 

Britain, will give them an opportunity, in ed with these, or any of the northern plan- 



282 iiisTonY OF demochacy. 

mulation.^ Each party had its secret friends to report the doino-s of its 
opponents ; and both parties were subject to the misrepresentations and 
exaggerations of zealous men, whose errors, if not in saying too much, could 
hardly he in saj^ing too little. 

The people of Massachusetts did not hesitate to give that construction to 
their charter which promised most for their own good. They had not been 
protected by a monarchy, — why should tliey be scrupulous in continuing its 
power ? They had regarded themselves as the servants of God, — could it 
be expected that they would recognize a rival master in a king ? ^ If the 
king and Parliament complained of the assumption of power, the colonists 
stood upon the justice of their position. If the king asserted his preroga- 
tive, the colonists claimed that it was inconsistent with their freedom ; if he 
manifested a formal interest in their welfare, they appealed to principles ; if 
he expressed a paternal relationship, they were grateful for his condescen- 
sion. Distance was an obstacle wdiich rendered frequent communications 
impossible ; and while monarchy relied upon ro3^alty in England, Democracy 
was building its home in the hearts of the people of America. 

From the first to the last, the colonists found in their charter sufficient 
authoritj^ to warrant the establishment of a separate government ; and on no 
occasion did they consent to modify their views of construction, their con- 
ceptions of dut}^, or neglect to embrace all proper opportunities for the 
improvement of their position. 

It was believed by some that no treaties should be made, except b}' the 
people,^ and it was claimed that the people alone should direct and distribute 



tations, •who does not know and confess that must be observed that the establishment of 

their poverty and the dechning state of their Episcopacy in New England, as the relig- 

trade is so great at present that there is far ion of the state, was impossible ; since the 

more danger of their sinking, without some character of the times was a guarantee that 

extraordinary support of the crown, than tlie immense majority of emigrants woukl 

of their ever revolting from it. So that I prove its uncompromising opponents." — 

may say, without being ludicrous, that it Vol. i, p. 344. 

would not be more absurd to place two of ^ " Submission," it was argued when it 

his majesty's beef-eaters to watch an infant was proposed to alter the charter, 1GS3, 

in the cradle, that it don't rise to cut its "would be an offence against the majesty 

father's throat, than to guard these weak of Heaven; the religion of the people of 

infant colonies to prevent their shaking off New England and the court's pleasure 

the British yoke. Besides, they are so dis- cannot subsist togetlier." * * * "Better 

tinct from one another in their forms of gov- suffer than sin. It is better to trust the God 

crnment, in their religious rites, in tlieir em- of our fathers than to put confidence in prin- 

ulation of trade, and consequently in their ces.'^ — See Bancroft, Vol. ii, pp. 125, 12G. 

affections, that they never can be supposed ^ John Eliot, the benevolent apostle of the 

to unite in so dangerous an enterprise." — Indians, and author of " The Christian Com- 

p. 72. monwealth, "a work condemned for its democ- 

1 " Considering the subject from the his- racy, claimed for the people a voice in raak- 

torical point of view,** says Bancroft, "it ing treaties. — See Bancroft, Yoj.. n, -p. 72. 



PARTY PRUDENCE OF THE COLONISTS. 283 

the executive, judicial and representative powers of the colon3% Governors 
were publicly subjected to be questioned, advised and censured, by the people ; 
the ministers of the gospel were reminded of their errors, and magistrates 
of their duties. '' The people were prized as the riches of the countr}- ; " 
and the remark which was made in Parliament, in the time of George II., 
*' that they who have no property have the strongest property in liberty-," 
was a truth well known and fully applied in practice. 

The people declared war against the Indians, and declined war against 
the Dutch. They enacted laws with a bold spirit, exercised ecclesiastical 
authorit}^, coined monej^ , and denied the right of appeal to the king ^ and 
Parliament. Aristocracy was rebuked with fearlessness ; and, when spirits 
were too turbulent fordiscipline,they were summaril}^ shipped to England. 
And yet, with such undisguised claims to authorit}^, they based all their 
hopes in the Christian faith, technicall}^ honored their king, but bent the 
knee to none but God. But in their boldness the colonists were prudent. 
They well comprehended the 103'alty of necessity", and made no impracticable 
attempts to hasten the growth of their plans. They avoided, as far as 
possible, all discussions that were of doubtful issue. The}" looked upon 
Parliament as an expensive friend ; and seldom honored that bod}" by 
petitions for favor, fearing that the obligation would be remembered to their 
damage, should their prayers be answered.^ To some things proposed by 
government they yielded, though not without an explanation of terms, and 
where there was no actual compromise of principle. The troubles and revo- 
lutions of the parent country were studied, with a cautious participation in 
their causes, though not without fearful apprehensions, or pleasing anticipa- 
tions, according to their wishes or their judgment, of their final issues. At 
all times respectful, the}^ claimed with serious deliberation the full measure 
of their rights ; and at all times courteous, they declined obedience to requisi- 
tions which they believed to be wrong. It may be trul}" said of them that 
they were graced with " the pride of submission, and dignity of obedience." 
They could receive the conmiissioners of the crown with all the ceremony 
due to their station, and 3'et impress them with a sense of their littleness, 
and the utter futility of their authority .^ They could ship a troublesome 



1 It was accounted perjury and treason to must then be subject to all such laws as 
speak of appeals to the king — Burdetfs they should make, in which course, though 
Letter to Laud, 1637. they should intend our good, yet it might 

2 When some of the friends of Massa- prove very prejudicial to us." 

chusetts, in England, suggested a petition in ^ jn 1664, Charles II. issued a commis- 

behalf of that colony to the Long Parlia- sion, empowering Richard Nichols and 

ment, soon after its meeting, it was, at first, three others "to hear and determine com- 

declined; "on consideration," says Win- plaints and appeals in causes, as well mili- 

throp, " that if we should put ourselves tary and civil as criminal, within New Eng- 

under the protection of Parliament, we land, and to proceed in all things for 



284 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



governor home without contempt of the throne, and refuse to drink hig 
majest3''s health and hear no breathing of treason. The}' could hunt the 
fugitive judges, who had assisted in sending royalty to the scaffold, with the 
earnestness of " hounds," and like "lobsters'*^ succeeded in finding them.^ 



settling the peace and security of the 
country." 

This commission was resisted by Massa- 
chusetts with extraordinary resolution, as a 
violation of their charter. The General 
Court "immediately resolved, in words," 
says Chalmers, " which show what impres- 
sion the arrival of the royal officers had 
made, to bear true allegiance to his majesty, 
and to adhere to a patent, so dearly ob- 
tained, and so long enjoyed by undoubted 
right in the sight of God and man." A 
communication was made to the king, 
stating "the grievances of the colony with 
the force of men who feared that the power 
of the commissioners might be improved 
' to the subversion of their all.' " And it 
concluded in this rapturous strain: "Let 
our government live, our patent live, our 
magistrates live, our laws and hberties 
live, our religious enjoyments live, — so 
shall we all yet have further cause to say, 
from our hearts, let the king live forever." 

The commissioners were not only openly 
opposed by proclamation, made by authority 
and preceded by the sound of trumpet, but 
they were required, with great seriousness, 
to behave themselves with all proper re- 
spect for the laws. It is said that they were 
accustomed to enjoy themselves with a few 
friends at a tavern in Ann-street, Saturday 
nights. This was contrary to a law which 
required the strict observance of Saturday 
night as a part of the Lord's day. A 
constable attempted to break them up, but 
was beaten and driven off by Sir Robert 
Carr and his servant. Mason, another con- 
stable, immediately proceeded to the tavern ; 
but the party had gone to the house of a 
merchant near by. Mason went in, staff in 
hand, and reproached them for resisting an 
officer, and for such examples of immor- 
ality; telling them it was well tlmt they 
had changed their quarters, or othenvise he 
should have arrested them all. " AVhat,** 



said Carr, "arrest the king's commission- 
ers? " " Yes," answered Mason, " the king 
himself, had he been there." 

The democratic reception of the commis- 
sioners in America was the cause of amaze- 
ment in England. " We are all amazed," 
said the chancellor (Clarendon), "you 
demand a revocation of the commission, 
without charging the commissioners with 
the least matter of crimes or exorbitances." 
Boyle echoed the astonishment ; " The com- 
missioners are not accused of one harmful 
thing, even in your private letters." " A 
century later," says Bancroft, "and there 
were none in England who did not esteem 
the commission an unconstitutional usurpa- 
tion." — See Bancroft, Vol. ii, p. 83; 
Chalmers' Annals, p. 387. 

The commission was not without its good 
results. It had a tendency to lead tlie colo- 
nists to settle differences at home, and to 
study their relations with England. Al- 
though some of the weaker colonies sub- 
mitted with an apparent loyalty, the per- 
manent efifect of the commission was 
favorable to freedom. 

1 See Pari. Deb., Vol. it, p. 635. 

2 When the royal mandate was received 
by the Governor of ^Massachusetts requiring 
the apprehension of Whalley and Goffe, a. 
feigned search was made for those unhappy 
men. A commission was given to Thomas 
Kellond and Thomas Kirk, two zealous 
young royaUsts, to go through the colonies, as 
far as Manhadoes, and make a careful and 
universal search for them. They proceeded 
with despatch as far as Hartford, where 
they were nobly entertained by Gov. Win- 
throp. He assured them that the judges 
made no stay in Connecticut, but weut 
directly to New Haven. He gave them a 
warrant and instructions similar to those 
which they had received in Massachusetts. 
All was done with a show of promptness. 
They arrived next day at Guilford, and 



TEMPER OF GREAT BRITAIN TOWARDS THE COLONIES. 



285 



They could beat the drum with respectful impunity in the presence of an 
unlawful officer who had been sent to rule over them,^ and immerse his 
majesty's commissioners in utter darkness without mtending personal dis- 
respect.^ 



opened their business to Deputy Gov. Leet. 
They acquainted him that they had reasons 
for believing that the regicides were then in 
New Haven. They desired immediately to 
be furnished with powers, horses and assist- 
ance, to arrest them. The governor and 
the principal men of Guilford viewed the 
judges as among the excellent in the earth, 
and had no disposition to betray them. 
They found means to delay the officers until 
next day, when horses were furnished ; but 
the governor utterly declined giving them 
any powers before he had consulted his 
council. The judges were apprized of 
every transaction respecting them, and they 
and their friends took their measures ac- 
cordingly. After meeting his council, the 
governor declared that they could not act 
without calling a general assembly of free- 
men. The officers complained, with earnest 
professions of loyalty, and said that his 
majesty would highly resent the conceal- 
ment and abetting of such traitors and 
regicides. They demanded whether he and 
his council would own and honor his 
majesty. The governor replied, " We do 
honor his majesty, but have tender con- 
sciences, and wish first to know whether he 
will own us." After the officers had used 
their best skill to discover the fugitives, by 
watching and by searching houses, they 
gave up the pursuit. The whole business 
was managed by the governor and the 
people with admirable judgment, and, with- 
out any open disloyalty to his majesty, they 
succeeded in protecting their distinguished 
visitors. — See Trumbull's Conn., Vol. i, p. 
243. 

1 Col. Benjamin Fletcher, Governor of 
New York in 1692, received a commission 
which was viewed by the colonists as entire- 
ly inconsistent with the charter rights and 
safety of the colonies. He was vested 
with plenary powers of commanding the 
whole militia of the provinces. When 



he visited Hartford, and insisted on the 
command of the Connecticut militia, the 
Assembly not only refused consent, but 
Gov. Treat declined receiving a commis- 
sion from him. 

" The train-bands of Hartford assembled," 
says Trumbull, "and, as the tradition is, 
while Capt. Wadsworth, the senior officer, 
was walking in front of the companies, and 
exercising the soldiers. Col. Fletcher ordered 
his commission and instructions to be read. 
Capt. Wadsworth instantly commanded, 
' Beat the drums ! ' and there was such a 
roaring of them that nothing else could be 
heard. Col. Fletcher commanded silence. 
But no sooner had Bayard made an attempt 
to read again, than Wadsworth commands, 
' Drum, — drum, I say ! ' The drummers 
understood their business, and instantly beat 
up with all the art and life of which they 
were masters. ' Silence ! silence ! ' says the 
colonel. No sooner was there a pause, than 
Wadsworth speaks, with great earnestness, 
' Drum, drum, I say ! ' and, turning to his 
excellency, said, ' If I am interrupted again, 
I will make the sun shine through you in a 
moment ! ' He spoke with such energy in 
his voice, and meaning in his countenance, 
that no further attempts were made to read, 
or enlist men." — Vol. i, p. 393. 

2 When Sir Edmund Andros, with his 
suite and a body of troops, visited Hartford, 
to demand the charter of Connecticut, the 
Assembly was in session. The governor 
and Assembly had no disposition to treat 
their distinguished visitor with any disre- 
spect, although they were keenly alive to 
the injustice of his mission. The import- 
ant affair was debated and kept in suspense 
until the evening, when the charter was 
brought and laid upon the table, where the 
Assembly was sitting. By this time, great 
numbers of people were assembled, and 
men sufficiently bold to enterprise whatever 
might be necessary or expedient. The lights 



286 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Strangers were watched, and watches were set with prayer. New acces- 
sions to the throne were declared with a discriminating convenience, and 
addresses of congratulation were alike tempered with uncompromising inde- 
pendence and confident submission. 

To conve}^ to the reader, in a few words, an adequate idea of the variety 
of disposition, power and temper, manifested hy Great Britain towards the 
colonies during a long period of time, would be quite impossible. Such con- 
necting links will be given as will best serve to illustrate the continuity of 
Democratic principles in the American colonies before the period of the 
Revolution. 

Although the political importance of America was not early seen b}^ the 
English government, the political rights of the colonists soon attracted 
attention in England. The king complained that Protestants were banished 
to become republicans, and, though Puritans were hopeless subjects, he 
preferred them to rebellious ones. Still he saw nothing to fear, and but 
little to control ; and the influence of the crown alternated between a liberal 
policy and a conservative one. National affairs at home were of more 
pressing importance, and the colonists were seldom noticed, except when 
they were occasionally brought forward for consideration by interested 
persons, who had a favor to ask, a complaint to make, or a jealous apprehen- 
sion of danger to express. Fanaticism was sometimes watched with a 
paternal feeling of mingled pity and vexation, and measures were ordered 
for regulating the Puritans in America with similar motives that orders at 
home were given for keeping the peace. A colonial sj'stem had not been 
conceived in England. 

When, however, it was discovered that the colonists were exercising an 
influence to unite in the defence of common interests, and that they freely 
expressed opinions favorable to a separate government, — the crown, doubtless 
moved by a disposition to rebuke assurance, commenced a conservative 
control. Liberalized charters were modified or cancelled, and the acts of 
government were directed with an evident purpose to prevent danger by 
recalling power that had been conceded, — and the right to dictate was fully 
exercised by the king and the council. Still, with an utter indifference to 
principles, or profoundly ignorant of consistenc}' in action, the English 
government pursued, at the same time, a different policy with different 
colonies. Each colony had its own peculiar conditions of existence and 
control : and perhaps no two of the whole number enjoyed the same degree 
of favor. 

were instantly extinguished, and one Cap- colony. The people appeared all peaceable 

tain Wadsworth, of Hartford, in the most and orderly. Tlie candles were officiously 

silent and secret manner carried off the relighted ; but the patent was gone, and no 

charter, and secreted it in a large hollow discovery could be made of it, or of the per- 

tree, fronting the house of the Hon. Samuel son who had conveyed it away. — See Trum- 

Wyllys, then one of the magistrates of the bull, Vol. i, p. 371. 



POLITICAL AI^D ^ATI0:N'AL PEOGEESS 



SUPREMACY OF MIND. 

In studjing the origin and growth of nations, the student is apt to 
acquire the habit of looking too much to external events, — as if they were 
the source, instead of the incidents of progress. This is reversing the order 
of cause and effect. The primary elements of progress are in the mind, 
the secondary in nature. The outward field is the world, but man is the 
discoverer, the inventor, the worker. A review of the past discloses the 
perfect adaptation of means to ends, and a sj'stem of gi-adual development 
according to natural laws. It is well to meditate upon the mental relations 
of historical subjects that proper views of principles may be clearly <iis' 
cerned and defined. Hence, the importance of considering the supremac}' 
of mind. 

To the comprehensive mind how full of meaning is the remark of Guizot, 
that — " After all, whatever external events ma}- be, it is man himself who 
makes the world." This leads us to discover and to stud}^ the varied means 
instituted by the will of God and emploj^ed by man to advance humanit}-. 
The mind — that commonwealth of faculties, endowed with its far-seeing 
instincts, and dignified with its reason and heaven-born sentiments, — is 
everywhere to assert its power and to fulfil its mission. Its varied rule 
constitutes the history of the past, its diversified powers indicate the innu- 
merable and ever changing departments of human labor and fields of glorj', 
and its proud achievements are marked upon the enduring scale of human 
progress. Its range of activitj^, though limited and humble for the moment, 
can neither be bounded by the land-marks of knowledge, nor scanned bj' 
the flights of prediction. It travels the most desolate regions of the globe, 
against threatening dangers and death, and turns upwards its instruments 
of observation to mark the sublime phenomena of the celestial hemi- 

287 



288 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



sphere.^ The invisible mite,^ and the towering mountain are alike scruti- 
nized by its gifted e3'e and magnifying instruments, and all nature, in its 
parts, and completeness, each in its time and turn become the object of its 
experiment, and the theme of its contemplation. From the visible to the 
invisible, it turns to the world of abstraction, — and man, and nature,- the 
nation and the universe — are surve^'ed in their vast and extended relations, 
— reaching even the sublime problem of intelligently tracing the great path- 
wa}^ of the soul in its progress from time to eternity.^ 

In observing the phenomena of the external world, and noting the condi- 
tions of growth and developments of power — philosophers have discovered 
and promulgated a system of fundamental laws. The earth has become the 
record of its own age and formation, and its teeming products, and every 
living creature — make a familiar lesson in the family and in the school.* The 



1 Mr. Paravey asserts, that the satelHtes 
of Jupiter were known to the Chinese, and 
figured by them on their celestial charts, 
and that the use of telescopes has existed 
among them, from the remotest antiquity. 

Although the knowledge of the attracting 
power of native iron magnets or loadstones 
appears to be of very ancient date among the 
nations of the "West, there is strong histori- 
cal evidence in the proof of the striking 
fact that the knowledge of the directive 
power of a magnetic needle and of its rela- 
tion to the terrestrial magnetism was 
peculiar to the Chinese, a people living in 
the extremest eastern portions of Asia. 
More than a thousand years before our era, 
in the obscure age of Codrus, and about 
the time of the return of the Heraclidae to 
the Peloponnesus, the Chinese had already 
magnetic carriages, on which the movable 
arm of a figure of a man continually pointed 
to the south, as a guide by which to find the 
way across the boundless grass plains of 
Tartary ; nay, even in the third century of 
our era, therefore at least seven hundred 
years before the use of the mariner's com- 
pass in European seas, Chinese vessels 
navigated the Indian Ocean under the direc- 
tion of magnetic needles pointing to the 
south. — Ilumholdt. Cosmos. 

'^ Fairholme says, — " There are, in almost 
all fluids, animals as perfect as ourselves 
in bodily structure and action, so minute, 
that it would require millions of them to 



form the compass of one single grain of sea 
sand." He claims to have demonstrated, 
"in the most unequivocal manner, that it 
would require from one to three millions of 
some active animalcula to form the bulk of 
a grain of sand." 

3 Where all the germs of civilization are 
developed beneath the aegis of free institu- 
tions and wise legislation, there is no cause 
for apprehending that any one branch of 
knowledge should be cultivated to the prej- 
udice of others. All afibrd the state pre- 
cious fruits, whether they yield nourishment 
to man and constitute his physical wealth, 
or whether, more permanent in their nature, 
they transmit in the works of mind the 
glory of nations to remotest posterity. The 
Spartans, notwithstanding their Doric aus- 
terity, prayed the gods to grant them 
*' the beautiful with the good." — Ilumholdt. 
Cosmos. 

4 "We cannot survey the crust of our 
planet," says Humboldt," without recogniz- 
ing the traces of the prior existence and 
destruction of an organic Avorld.. The sedi- 
mentary rocks present a succession of 
organic forms, associated in groups, which 
have successively displaced and succeeded 
each other. The different superimposed 
strata thus display to us the faunas and 
floras of different epochs. In this sense 
the description of nature is intimately con- 
nected with its history ; and the geologist, 
who is guided by the connection existing 



SUPREMACY OF MIND. 



289 



elements are analj-zecl, the atmosphere and the lightning, though terrible in 
the thunders of the tornado, are made submissively to carry and to speak, 
to give music and information. The ocean is measured in its depths, in 
its conditions of motion and repose, in its capacity of production and sub- 
ordinate power to serve man in his wants, and nations in their necessities. 
The forests are explored, and their treasures developed. The rivers are 
traced in their winding beds, the prairies tilled, and the mountains are 
shaped and bored for travel. B}^ the aid of science these things are done 
and made to subserve the individual or the general good, — and hence all 
the great sources of culture and industry are brought within the compass of 
ordinary minds to be studied and understood. They are associated with 
no mystery, they encourage no superstitions. Cause and effect are observed 
in their obvious relations and with a practical confidence, and results, in all 
their variety of life and death, power and beaut}', aim and end, — are seen 
to be in harmonj^ with the unchangeable laws of nature, and man ceases to 
doubt in so far as he ceases to he ignorant. It is when we see the suprem- 
acy^ of mind over matter — that we cannot fail to be impressed with the 
still greater truth, — the supremac}' of truth over error, of right over wrong, 
of life over death — both in the life of man and in the destin}' of nations. 
Truth may be known by its uniformit}' and sj'stem, by its efflcienc}' and 
compensations, b}' its inherent beaut}^ and universal adaptation. Emanat- 
ing from the great source of all intelligence, all forms of i)Ower are to be 
regarded as but manifestations of its creative will.^ 



among the facts observed, cannot form a 
conception of the present without pursuing, 
through countless ages, the history of the 
past."* * 

"The sense in which the Greeks and 
Romans originally employed the word his- 
tory proves that they too were intimately 
convinced that, to form a complete idea of 
the present state of the universe, it was 
necessary to consider it in its successive 
phases." — Cosmos. 

1 " AYlien man began to interrogate 
nature," says Humboldt, " and, not content 
with observing, learned to evoke phenomena 
under definite conditions ; when once he 
sought to collect and record facts, in order 
that the fruit of his labors might aid inves- 
tigation after his own brief existence had 
passed away, the philosophy of Nature cast 
aside the vague and poetic garb in which 
she had been enveloped from her origin, 
and, having assumed a severer aspect, she 

19 



now weighs the value of observations, and 
substitutes induction and reasoning for con- 
jecture and assumption." * * 

" Nature considered rationally, that is to 
say, submitted to the process of thought, is 
a unity in diversity of phenomena ; a har- 
mony, blending together all created things, 
however dissimilar in form and attributes ; 
one great whole animated by the breath 
of life. The most important result of a rational 
inquiry into nature is, therefore, to establish 
the unity and harmony of this stupendous 
mass of force and matter, to determine with 
impartial justice what is due to the discov- 
eries of the past and to those of the present, 
and to analyze the individual parts of natu- 
ral phenomena without succumbing beneath 
the weight of the whole. Thus, and thus 
alone, is it permitted to man, while mind- 
ful of the high destiny of his race, to com- 
prehend nature, to lift the vail that shrouds 
her phenomena, and, as it were, submit th© 



290 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

With a deep and lively consciousness of this knowledge of things, and 
with an abiding conviction, that what is true of a part cannot be otherwise 
than true of the whole, let the reader turn from the interests of self to 
nature and to nature's God, from the individual to the race, from the family 
to the nation, — and endeavor with the aids of history, — to contemplate 
humanity in the broad phases of nationality. The nation is an ultimate 
combination of mind, and its forces are gathered in convention, from the 
experience and traditions of the past — according to those invisible laws of 
S3"mpathy and contrarietj-, which characterize the process of germination at 
all times — whether of a physical or spiritual nature. The germs of a nation's 
power and character, like the seed sown by the planter, are self protective, 
and they spring forth into life in due time and season, though centuries 
may have intervened between their inception and development. The events 
of mind, as connected with the growth of nations, indicate the great sources 
of power, strength and character. From the earliest to the latest periods, 
— Democracy has been combined with every possible variety of form of 
power, always seeking its own, lessening the wrong and enlarging the right. 
It has been denounced as the result of commerce, and as the cause of 
treason. "Whether viewed as cause or effect, its theories have claimed too 
much to find favor with despotism, and its blessings have proved too gen« 
€ral to be mistaken for the fruits of t3'rann3\ Its victories have been limited 
and temporar}', but its influence permanent and progressive. In all ages 
it has been the conservator of truth, and the careful distributor of authority. 
What could not be controlled in application, was Avatched with a vigilant 
acquiescence, and the mistakes of ignorance, or fanaticism — were left to be 
corrected in a period more favorable to judicious counsels. 

The beginning of a nation is often narrowed down to the circumstances 
of a people, to the wisdom or foresight of certain men, to the injustice of 
rulers, to the adoption of a particular form of government, or to a success- 
ful revolution.^ These sources of action are too limited to be satisfactory 



'results of observation to the test of reason that constitution or the laws of that realm, 

and of intellect" — Cosmos. Three things were necessary to have this 

1 In 17G5, the people of Ipswich, Mass., otherwise; First, that their migrating and 

■gave instructions to their representative, coming forth should have been a national 

Dr. John Calef, from which the following act. Secondly, that it should have been at 

extract is taken. " When our forefathers a national expense. Thirdly, that they 

left their native coimtry, they left also the should be sent to settle some place or terri- 

laws and constitutian they had been under, tory that the nation had before, in some 

in all respects and to all purposes, save way or other, made their own, as was 

what was secured by the charters ; and it is usually, if not always the case with the 

a manifest fact, that, from that day to this, ancient Romans. But neither of them was 

the government at Tiome have never con- the case here. It is well known that they 

eidered the .Colonies as under the force of came out of their own accord, and at their 



SUPREMACY OF MIND. 291 

to the intelligent reader. They are incidental. A new nation is the 
offspring of the the entire past. Mind, with an all pervading power, 
accumulates the agencies of progress, and in its mighty career dii'ects their 
exertion in new combinations. These combinations, as represented b}" the 
nations of ancient and modern times, have been briefl}' reviewed, and the 
reader is asked mentally to repossess himself of that vast diversity of elements 
— which has been disengaged by the civilization of the world, and prepared 
for a new formation upon the American continent — which territory had been 
seen and mapped by the Northmen five hundred years before the voyage 
of Columbus.^ But it must be considered, that history affords but an imper- 
fect record of the progress of the human mind. The absence of knowledge 
is a period of darkness, and when it is considered how long mankind were 
■without the means of recording their thoughts and acts, and of transmitting 
them to posterity by the aid of the printing press, — it may be readil}' seen 
how small a portion of human progress is attributable to the agency and 
intelligence of man, and how much to Providence. It is not to be inferred by 
the student, that the dark ages were barren of results, or that ages of com- 
parative ignorance, — have afforded no aids to the growth of mind. The 
legacies of individual character, the characteristics of races and of nations, 
the maxims of accumulated wisdom, the inextinguishable lights of revela- 
tion, — are transmitted and perpetuated in new and living forms, according 
to unalterable laws, and as it has been demonstrated that not an atom of 
the physical world can be annihilated, so it may be regarded as still more 
certain, — that no thought or emotion, enshrined in truth, can be lost in the 
changes of time. 

It is, indeed, enough to command our reverence and awe, — to contemplate 
what has been visible and intelligible in the dark and enlightened ages. 
With what moral grandeur and natural sublimity is the beginning of a 
nation invested — if traced to sources coeval with the age of man. Science, 



own expense, and took possession of a route, and as far as 41° 30 ' north latitude, 

country they were obliged to buy or fight The first, although accidental, incitement 

for, and to which the nation had no more toward this event emanated from Norway, 

right than to the moon. Thence it follows Toward the close of the ninth century, 

that, abating the charter, they were as Naddod was driven by storms to Iceland 

much dismembered from the government while attempting to reach the Faroe Islands, 

they came from, as the people of any other which had already been visited by the Irish, 

part of the world." — Works John Adams, The first settlement of the Northmen was 

Vol. 2, p. 171. made in 875 by Ingolf. Greenland, the 

1 While the Califate still flourished under eastern peninsular of a land which appears 

the Abbassides at Bagdad, and Persia was to be everywhere separated by the sea from 

under the dominion of the Samanides, whose America proper, was early seen, although 

age was so favorable to poetry, America it was peopled from Iceland a hundred 

was discovered in the year 1000 by Leif, years later (983). — Humboldt. Cosmos. 
the son of Eric the Red, by the northern 



292 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACr. 

with its illustrious votaries — from a Thales to a Franklin ; morals, from a 
Seneca to a Taley ; government, from a Solon to a Washington ; Chris- 
tianit}', with the sacred teachings of its Divine Founder, and his followers, for 
two thousand years ; the associated and conflicting labors of Reformations, 
Revolutions, Schools and Institutions, — embracing every variety of thought, 
theory and action, — all converged by an All-wise Providence to bless and 
to sanctifj^ the beginning of the American nation, and that nation a Demo- 
cratic Republic. The people of the American Colonies were exalted to 
the high privilege of asserting the principles of Democracy, and of testing 
the practicability of self-government. 



WHAT CONSTITUTES A NATION. 

As the various faculties make up the mind, or the man, so various men, 
or classes of men, make up the nation. The aggregate stands as a distinct 
part of creation, an element in the chemistry of civilization, and is to be 
counted a fact in history-, and may be regarded by itself, or viewed in the 
successive and varied combinations developed b}^ its progress. The sources 
of its diversity are the sources of its completeness and power ; and such an 
organization has its distinct mission, and draws its nutriment from the 
events and changes of the phj^sical and mental w^orlds as sj'stematically 
and naturally as plants and trees draw nutrition from the earth. 

The forms and growth of nations are governed by fixed laws. They have 
their natural limits, practicable and impracticable conditions. They have 
their periods of health and of decay. If their means of protection are not 
commensurate with their claims of power, anarchy follows, and nationality 
fails. When continued anarchy prevails government perishes.^ A nation 
is an aggregated form of delegated authority, and its power and strength 
are not entirely self inherent, but are dependent, to a certain degree, on 
outward circumstances. There are " fixed boundaries to authority," says 
Lamartine, " even as there are limits to the human mind, and the world 
itself, beyond which boundaries lie only death and annihilation." This is 
true of all power however created or exerted, limited or extended. A 
people without a defined or stable government, can have no identit}^ as a 
nation. " In counsel is stability," says Solomon, thus enforcing the great 
truth that a nation cannot endure without wisdom. 



1 Guizot, in speaking of the revolution of In this, as in all similar cases, — chaos was 

1848,— says, — "So long as this judgment concealed by the enemies of Democracy, 

(on principles) is deferred, chaos reigns : Louis Napoleon used the word not because 

and chaos, if prolonged in the midst of a he loved its meaning, but to aid him in 

people, would be death. Chaos is now surreptitiously reestablishing his family 

concealed under one word— Democracy." upon a throne. 



WHAT CONSTITUTES A NATION. 293 

A nation, like man, is subjected to the fundamental laws of capacity and 
of principle. It cannot fail by doing right, nor can it succeed by doing 
wrong. The greater the knowledge of its wants and dependent relations, 
the surer is its means of independence and prosperit3^ Its exact conform- 
ity to justice, constitutes its means of continued life and safety. " The 
first requisite toward the foundation of a government by a nation," says 
Geo. Combe, " is, that it be independent of foreign powers." Though a 
nation may be independent, the people may not be free. " Thus, France and 
Spain, under the Bourbon dynasties," continues Combe, " before the French 
revolution, were both independent ; they owned no superior. But they 
were not free ; the people did not enjoy liberty." * * " England has 
been independent almost since the Romans left the country ; for although it 
was conquered by the Normans, in the year 1066, the conquerors fixed their 
residence in the vanquished territory, made it their home, and in a few 
generations were amalgamated with the native population. But England 
was not properly free till after the revolution in 1688." ^ These great 
outlines of principle were ably sketched by Burke in the House of 
Commons in 1775. In a speech favoring conciliation with America, — he 
points out the sources of a nation's strength, the facts and causes of a 
nation's weakness, the boundaries of a nation's growth, — and the necessities 
of a nation's boundaries. He speaks of the " untractable or disobedient 
spirit " of the Americans, which is the educated spirit of resistance to unlaw- 
ful oppression, — as an element of strength in the character of a people. 

" Permit me. Sir," said he, " to add another circumstance in our colonies, 
which contributes no mean part toward the growth and effect of this untract- 
able spirit. I mean their education. In no country perhaps in the world 
is the law so general a study. The profession itself is numerous and pow- 
erful ; and in most provinces it takes the lead. * * t^ i hear that they 
have sold nearly as many of Blackstone's Commentaries in America 
as in England." * * " This study renders men acute, inquisitive, 
dexterous, prompt in attack, ready in defence, full of resources. In 
other countries, the people, more simple, and of less mercurial cast, judge 
of an ill principle in government only by an actual grievance ; here they 
anticipate the evil, and judge of the pressure of the grievance by the bad- 
ness of the principle. They augur misgovernment at a distance ; and snuff 
the approach of t3'ranny in ever}^ tainted breeze. 

" The last cause of this disobedient spirit in the colonies is hardly less 
powerful than the rest, as it is not merely moral, but laid deep in the natu- 
ral constitution of things. Three thousand miles of ocean lie between you 
and them. No contrivance can prevent the effect of this distance, in weak- 
ening government. Seas roll, and months pass, between the order and 

1 Moral Philos., pp. 341-2. 



294 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the execution : and the want of a speedj^ explanation of a single point, is 
enough to defeat a whole system. You have, indeed, winged ministers of 
vengeance, who carry your bolts in their pounces to the remotest verge of 
the sea. But there a power steps in, that limits the arrogance of raging 
passions and furious elements, and says, — " So far shalt thou go, and no 
farther." Who are you, that should fret and rage, and bite the chains of 
nature ? Nothing worse happens to 3'ou, than does to all nations, who have 
extensive empire ; and it happens in all the forms into which empire can be 
thrown. In large bodies, the circulation of power must be less vigorous at 
the extremities. Nature has said it. The Turk cannot govern Egypt, and 
Arabia, and Curdistan, as he governs Thrace ; nor has he the same dominion 
in Crimea and Algiers, which he has at Brusa and SmjTua. Despotism 
itself is obliged to truck and huckster. The sultan gets such obedience as 
he can. He governs with a loose rein, that he may govern at all ; and the 
whole of the force and vigor of his authority in his centre, is derived from a 
prudent relaxation in all his borders. Spain, in her proAdnces, is, perhaps, 
not so well obeyed, as you are in yours. She complies too ; she submits ; 
she watches times. This is the immutable condition, the eternal law, of 
extensive and detached empire.'* 

" Then, Sir," he continues, " from these six capital sources ; of descent ; 
of form of government ; of religion in the northern provinces ; of manners 
in the southern ; of education ; of the remoteness of situation from the first 
mover of government ; from all these causes a fierce spirit of liberty has 
grown up. It has grown with the growth of the people in your colonies, 
and increased with the increase of their wealth ; a spirit, that unhappily 
meeting with an exercise of power in England ; which, however lawful, is 
not reconcilable to any ideas of liberty, much less with theirs, has kindled 
this flame, that is ready to consume us." ^ 

Thus — how utterly insignificant is the despotism of a nation made to 
appear when compared to the democracy- of nature. 

How far a nation ma}" be able to preserve its identit}', or its integrit}^ to 
itself, by war, is a subject entitled to careful research and consideration. 
It will be more fully considered in other chapters. War is defensible only 
as the ultimate means of establishing the cause of universal justice. Its 
benefits should be coextensive with its calamities. No people can be 
properly called a nation who are incapable of progress and self defence. 
A nation at peace is a nation in health. It is evidence of justice and of a 
wise government administered in conformity to acknowledged principles 
and according to knowledge. The capacity and conduct of every citizen 
make a part of its condition, strength and power. This principle was well 
understood by Washington. In a message to Congress, in 1793, he ssijs, — 

1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xviii, pp. 495-6. 



"WHAT CONSTITUTES A NATION. 295 

" There is a rank due to the United States among nations, which will be 
withheld, if not absolutely lost, by the reputation of weakness. If we desire 
to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it ; if we desire to secure peace, 
one of the most powerful instruments of our rising prosperity, it must be 
known, that we are at all times ready for war." ^ 

Burke gives great importance to education as the means of preparing the 
people for citizenship,— but such a preparation would be lost unless accompa- 
nied by the counsel of statesmen whose knowledge of society and of the 
means of its advancement enable them to point out and explain the exten- 
sive relations of want, of dependence and of independence. 

What Guizot says of the political conditions of social peace in France/ — 
is worthy of attention, as it illustrates principles. He says, — 

" Whenever it shall have been distinctly perceived and full}' admitted, 
that the different classes which exist among us, and the political parties 
which correspond to those classes are natural and deeply rooted elements 
of French societ}^, a great step will have been made toward social peace. 

" This peace is impossible so long as each of the different classes and 
the great political parties into which our society is divided cherishes the 
hope of annihilating the others, and of reigning alone. That is the evil 
which, ever since 1789, has periodically agitated and convulsed France. 
Sometimes the democratic element has aimed at the extinction of the aris- 
tocratic ; at other times the aristocratic element has tried to crush the dem- 
ocratic, and to gain its former predominance. Constitutions, laws, and 
the administration of the government have been by turns directed, like 
engines of war, to one or the other of these ends — a war to the death, in 
which neither combatant believed his life compatible with that of his rival. 

" This war was suspended by the Emperor Napoleon. He rallied around 
him the classes which had formerly possessed, and those which actually 
enjo3^ed, power and influence ; and by the security which he offered them, 
by the continual turmoil in which he kept them, or by the yoke which he 
imposed upon them, he established and maintained peace. 

" After him, from 1814 to 1830, and from 1830 to 1848, this war was 
renewed. Both the ancient aristocratic and the modern democratic 
elements acquired strength ; but though neither could succeed in suppress- 
ing the other, each was impatient of its adversary's existence, and eagerly 
strove for the mastery. 

" And now a third combatant has entered the arena. The democratic 
party having divided itself into two conflicting sections, the workmen are 
now arrayed (1849) against their masters, or the people against the middle 
classes.3 This new war, like the former, is a war to the death ; for the 



1 Sparks' Washington, Vol. xii. p. 38. ^in the preface of liis ^^ Democracy in 

2 Guizot's ** Democracy in France," j). 43. France" Guizot says, — " The more I reflect 



296 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACr, 

new aspirant is as arrogant and exclusive as the others can have ever been. 
The sovereignty, it is said, belongs of right to the people only ; and no 
rival, ancient or modern, noble or bourgeois, can be admitted to share it. 

^' Ever}' pretension of this kind must be withdrawn, not by one only, but 
b}' all the contending parties. The great elements of society among us — 
the old aristocracy, the middle classes, and the people — must completely 
renounce the hope of excluding and annihilating each other. Let them vie 
with each other in injluence ; let each maintain its position and its rights, 
or even endeavor to extend and- improve them, for in such efforts consists 
the political life of a countrj^ But there must be an end of all radical 
hostility : they must resign themselves to live together, side by side, in the 
ranks of the government as well as in civil society. This is the first con- 
dition of social peace. How, it may be asked, can this condition be satis- 
fied? How can the different elements of our society be brought to tolerate 
each other's existence, and to fulfil their several functions in the govern- 
ment of the countr}^ ? 

" I repl}', by such an organization of that government as may assign to 
each its place and functions ; may concede something to the wishes, 
while it imposes limits to the ambition, of all. 

" I am here met by an idea, perhaps the most false and fatal of all those 
current in our days on the subject of constitutional organization. It is 
this : — ' National unit}' involves political unity. There is but one people : 
— there can exist at the head in the name of this people, but one power.* 
This is the idea which most completely characterizes both revolution and 
despotism. The convention and Louis XIV. exclaimed alike, ' L'Etat, 
c'est moi.' 

" It is as false as it is tyrannical. A nation is not a vast aggregate of 



upon that, the more I am convinced that Without desiring to disparage the great- 

the evil which lies at the root of all her ness of Guizot as a thinker — it is difficult to 

evils, (France) which undermines and suppress astonishment that such a mind as 

destroys her governments and her liberties, his should fail to see the difference between 

her dignity and her happiness, is the evil feigned democracy, and the democracy of 

which I attack ; — the idolatry of Democ- principle. Louis Napoleon was at no time 

racy. a democrat. He professed democracy and 

"Whether the accession of M. Louis republicanism with motives to popularity — 

Napoleon Bonaparte to the Presidency of but when he gained position he was false to 

the Republic will be found an efficacious both. He headed a republic, and created 

remedy for this disease, the future will show, an empire. Was it " the idolatry of democ- 

What I have said here after the election of racy " that enabled him to do this, or was it 

M. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, I should treachery to democracy"} A man who 

have equally said, without the slightest chooses his politics, — discloses his real 

alteration, if General Cavaignac had been character when he possesses the power to 

elected. It is not to individuals, but to do as he may choose, 
society itself, that great social truths are 
addressed." 



CONVENTIONAL CONFLICT AND ACTION. 297 

men, consisting of so many thousands or millions, occupying a certain 
extent of ground, and concentrated in, and represented by, a unit, called 
king or assembly. A nation is a great organic body, formed by the union 
within one country of certain social elements which assume the shape and 
constitution naturally impressed upon them by the primitive laws of God 
and the free acts of man. The diversity of these elements is, as we have 
just seen one of the essential facts resulting from those laws ; and is 
absolutely h^^^ .^sistent with the false and tyrannous unity which it is pro- 
posed to establish at the centre of government, as representative of that 
society in which it never exists." 

Because there are certain conditions to be observed and studied in the 
growth of nations, it is not to be inferred that the laws which govern their 
advancement are mutable or uncertain. Nations are not formed by chance. 

NATIONS ARE NOT FORMED BY CHANCE. 

A nation is no accident. The growth of a nation does not happen by 
chance. The character of a nation is left to no uncertainty. The continu- 
ance of a nation does not depend upon human wisdom. The age of a 
nation is not appointed by man. It is not within the province of man to 
give existence to a nation, either by edict or by legislation, or to destroy 
it. He is only a humble agent in the hands of his Creator to aid in the 
great process of its development. He can neither make nor destroy, and 
yet by his means failures are caused and successes demonstrated. Men, 
and associations of men, succeed only as they become discoverers of great 
truths, and faithfully apply them in practice. When a nation becomes dis- 
tracted by discordant elements, from any cause, and secession is proposed 
as a remedy, the people have reached a period of inquiry. They pause to 
consider, to discuss, to learn their way. 



CONVENTIONAL CONFLICT AND ACTION. 

The colonists had sought the new world with the limited motives of men, 
and had established themselves upon the narrow basis of dependence on an 
outward and distant government, and upon a mere self-protection at home. 
They had adopted Democracy in their Institutions with but dim conceptions 
of its progressive power, — and they deemed the settlement of the Continent 
more as a private enterprise for religious secm-ity and personal comfort, — 
than as a public movement fraught with public interests. It was otherwise 
ordered. Their plans were apparently the expedients of the moment, but 
the principles which they adopted carried them forward beyond the wisdom 
of a daj^, and into the extended relations of humanity. They had been 
working for God and the world. For more than a hundred years they had 



298 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

sti-uggled against wants and dangers, and now had reached a period of 
maturity when great interests culminate and the relations of responsibility 
begin. It was a period of power when government began to realize the 
growing strength and importance of the Colonies. Still, it had no serious 
anxiety, and but few colonists ventured to hope, or predict an independence, 
or to counsel resistance to a government so ancient and so honored as their 
own. They looked upon their difficulties, with pain and anguish, but they 
regarded duty as a necessit}^, and suffering as their appointed lot. They 
had been taught to love the king, and to honor the Parliament, — and were 
slow to believe that either could be spared — and a good government estab- 
lished. They relied upon that paternal policy, which is suited only to a 
condition of weakness, and sought justice by submissive appeal and 
explanation, — which seldom succeeds but in the absence of interest. Their 
devotion to duty and perseverance against difficulty had given them char- 
acter, and their industry and enterprise had opened sources of revenue to 
the mother country. Their prepossessions in favor of Democracy for a 
long time had been made sufficiently manifest to excite the jealous}^ of 
rulers, and questions of interest and of control soon indicated the necessity of 
concession and adjustment, or of unconditional submission. Here, then, 
the process of conventional separation became obviously visible to the 
ordinary observer. 

The Government of England had really ceased to be applicable to the 
wants and condition of America. Its habits and policy had been circum- 
scribed within the limits of the British Realm ,i and if we except the spirit 
of colonization and commercial ambition which have given position to the 
nation, it may be said that England, in her progress, had faithfully 
preserved her ancient identity. Like men, nations have their distinctive 
features, and though time and change may alter, they do not destroy them. 
In all positions of advancement or activity — they are to be recognized in 
their individualit3\ A nation is characterized by principle, and not by 
territory nor by possessions, or numbers. All these are to be viewed as 
incidental in their relations. In other language — principles are the great 



1 In 1621, when the Commons proposed a fore, no right to interfere;" and for this 

bill to James I., for the free liberty of fish- reason the bill was crushed. In like man- 

ing and fishing voyages, to be made and ner, when a bill respecting America was 

performed on the sea-coasts and places of offered by the two Houses of Parliament to 

Newfoundland^ Virginia, and New Eng- King Charles I. (the very Prince who 

land, and other countries, and parts of granted our charter, Mass.') for his Royal 

America, the Secretary of State was sent by assent, he refused it, giving as a reason, 

His Majesty with the following declaration " that the colonies were without the Realm 

to the House of Commons, viz : '■'■America and jurisdiction of Parliament." — Am» 

is not annexed to the Realm, nor within the Archiv. ^th Series, Vol. 2, p. 22 
jurisdiction of Parliament ; you have, there- 



CONVENTIONAL CONFLICT AND ACTION. 299 

levers of progress, and whether a nation be composed of ten or 
twenty millions of people, with a large or small territory, — to these the 
student is to look to find its position and power and true means of progress. 
All principles have each its appropriate means of accomplishing its ends, 
and when combined into a system of government and formally adopted by 
a people, it is limited by the circumstances of practicabilit3^ The govern- 
ment of England was a progressive monarchy, — but it was not equal to a 
democratic republic. The principles of the Colonists were similar, funda- 
mentall}^, to those upon which the British Constitution was based, but they 
had been developed to meet the wants of an enlarged freedom. The 
Democracy of Republicanism, which alternately concentrates and diffuses 
the powers of government, and becomes more and more elevated on every 
return to the bosom of the people, — ^had reached the period of asserting and 
defending its own peculiar sphere of action in the hearts of the American 
people. A new centre of conventional vitality had been created, and the 
incipient forces of nationality soon clustered into form and energy. The 
spirit of lo3'alty in the colonists disclaimed usurpation, and the chronic 
spirit of conservatism in the government disclaimed tjTanny. 

Industry had achieved its victory over indigence, self-denial had estab- 
lished fixed habits of economy, and commerce had disclosed the resom'ces 
of the American Continent.^ The Colonists had succeeded in establishing a 
home in the wilderness, and what had been looked upon as a self exiled 
compan}'^ of fanatics, now appeared as a prosperous and civilized commu- 
nity. The disgrace of struggle had given place to the elements of success, 
and the increase of possession invested the people with an external import- 
ance too great, and too obvious to be long exempted from foreign notice 
and formal recognition. America was seen to stand alone. The child had 
begun to step with the air of manhood, and the once humble and unnoticed 
Colony arose and moved with the air of nationality. What was the voice 
of despotism as uttered by Louis XIV., " L'Etat, c'est moi" now became the 



1 " Industry," says Botta, " a spirit of tined for her colonies, had been six millions 

enterprise, and an extreme love of gain, are five hundred and nine thousand pounds 

characteristic qualities of those who are sep- sterling; but from this year to 1772, these 

arated from other men, and can expect no colonies had so increased in population and 

support but from themselves ; and the colo- prosperity, that at this epoch they of them- 

nists being descended from a nation distin- selves imported from England to the value 

guished for its boldness and activity in the of £6,22,132.00 ; that is to say, that in the 

prosecution of traflSc, it is easily conceived year 1772, the colonies alone furnished the 

that the increase of commerce was in pro- mother country with a market for a quan- 

portion to that of population. Positive facts tity of merchandise almost equal to that 

confirm this assertion. In 1704, the sum which, sixty-eight years before, suflBced for 

total of the commercial exports of Great her commerce with all parts of the world.** 

Britain, inclusive of the merchandise des- Am. Rev., Vol. i, p. 20. 



300 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

language of the people. "We are the State." What might be tyranny 
in a king was seen to be Democracy in a people. 

The strength and immunities of nationality are ever to be found in sym- 
path}^ with corresponding responsibilities. A government of protection in 
the period of weakness may soon become a government of claim and 
control in the period of strength. It is a fundamental law, that strength 
and capacity are placed in corresponding relations of duty and responsi- 
bility, — and the periods of youth and manhood — are not more distinctly 
marked b}" the laws and customs of society, than those of the colony and 
of the nation. The process of transition is slow and natural, and the 
questions which result in conflict and revolution, — arise in the ordinary 
prosecution of a governmental polic}^, whether that policy be in harmony 
with, or in violation of — a constitutional standard. The accumulated wants 
of England produced a necessity for revenue be3'0nd the legitimate means 
of the government to supply, and the wisdom of the cabinet degenerated 
into the expedients of the financier. The politician became the arbiter of 
justice, Parliament the tool of party, and the King of tyrann3^ In fact, it 
was in spirit a continuation of the odious policy of the act of 1732 to keep 
the colonies " properly dependent upon the parent country." ^ On the 
other hand the democratic views of the colonies may be seen in the lan- 
guage of Samuel Adams, expressed in 1771. " We are either a State," he 
says, " as entirel}^ independent of Great Britain as any other on earth 
which makes use of her protection, or we are her free colonies. In both 
these cases her conduct towards us should be identically the same." 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 

That the reader may better understand the position of parties with respect 
to the great questions of controversy between the government and the 
people, or rather — between the Tory and the Whig parties at this time, — it 
will be profitable first to consider. What Government is, its objects and ends, 
as recognized and acknowledged in the Constitution of England.^ This will 



1 John Nicholls, of a Tory family, and a us, 'une nation pirate et boutiquie're;' and 
Member of Parliament 1780 and for several has not Indian patronage peculiarly con- 
years, — has the candor to speak the truth tributed to give us that venal money-loving 
of his own country. He says,— "Has it character, which the French attribute to 
not been acknowledged publicly, that a us?" — Recollections ^c.,Y ol.. i, -p. 2i6. 
Bengal writership was given by the Minister 2 << it is the glory of the British Constitu- 
te one of his friends that he might sell it, tion that it hath its foundation in the law of 
and with the produce purchase a seat in the God and nature." This was the language 
House of Commons ? The French call of Samuel Adams in 1768. 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 301 

serve as a standard to enable him to judge of the consistency of the Tory 
administration of the government, and of the patriotism of the Democratic 
Party which organized with an uncompromising spirit against its rule and 
measures. But, What is government? What judgment is to the mind, and 
self control to the individual, — government is to society. Its objects and 
ends are — protection, equal rights, justice and happiness.^ 

It is the remark of a distinguished writer, that " society is produced by 
our wants, and government by our wickedness ; the former promotes our 
happiness poszYiVeZ^/ by uniting our affections, the latter negatively by restrain- 
ing our vices. The one encourages intercourse, the other creates dis- 
tinctions. The first is a patron, the last is a punisher." There is truth in 
these views but it is not made obvious. When all admit that there is no 
power but of God, it becomes necessary that we should understand the 
nature of things as they exist in society so that the agency of this power 
may be seen in its exercise and development. To say that " society is pro- 
duced by our wants " is to reverse the order of cause and effect, and to 
suppose that wants may exist independent of condition ; and to say that 
" government is produced by our wickedness " — is to mistake the perversi- 
ties of human nature for the ordinances of God. The perfection of govern- 
ment can be found only where there is no wickedness. There can be no 
wickedness in the government of God, — and if we are able to comprehend, 
however imperfectlj', the faintest outlines of Divine Government, we ma}^ 
understand in some degree, the philosophy of the best human govern- 
ment.'^ When we speak of human government, we speak of government as 
administered by man, embracing man himself, and jet in no sense as inde- 
pendent of Providence. If it may be said that Divine Government is in 
accordance with the Will of God, it may be seen how human government 
may be said to be in harmon}- with the will of man. But let us ask what 
we are to understand by the will of man. This is to be found in his nature, 
and in his history. 



1 " We live under a gorernment of three on which I had determined. That I had 
branches," says Samuel Adams, "Wisdom, constantly kept my eye on my own home, 
Goodness, and Power to execute their reso- and could no longer refrain from returning 
lutions." These are the sources of good -to it. As to himself, his presence was 
government. important ; that he was the only man in the 

2 To some extent and under certain cir- United States who possessed the confidence 
cumstances it may be said that government of the whole ; that government was founded 
is founded in opinion and confidence. For in opinion and confidence, and that the 
example, in 1792, when Jefterson wished to longer he remained, the stronger would 
retire from Washington's cabinet, he said, — become the habits of the people in submit- 
" I explained to him (Washington) the cir- ting to the government, and in thinking it a 
cumstances of the war which first called me thing to be maintained." — Jefferson's Works, 
into public life, and those following the Vol. ix, p. 121. But this was prejudice, 
war, which had called me from a retirement not principle. 



302 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

In the earl}^ ages, government was professed^ and practically paternal 
in its nature, and in all ages of the world, where absolutism prevails — this 
particular feature is claimed. It was an instructive remark of Sir Walter 
Raleigh, that " A man must govern Jmnselfere he be fit to govern a famil}-, 
and his famil}", ere he be fit to bear the government of the Common- 
wealth." ^ Dr. Whichcote thought he was making a good point when he 
said, — " The government of man should be the monarchy of reason ; it is 
too often the democracy of passions, or the anarchy of humors." This is 
not good philosoph}^ It is practically^ dividing the mind against itself, 
between two classes of powers, — denying to each what is necessarj^ to both. 
Monarchy ^ is not especially entitled to distinction as connected with reason 
more than Democracy, and it may be said that both alike are subjected to 
the rule of the passions and to " the anarchy of humors." If he had com- 
mended the rule of reason, and the subserviency of the passions, without 
reference to any form of government, — there would have been some mean- 
ing to the sentence. A government without passions would be a govern- 
ment without force, and a government without reason would be a govern- 
ment without system, a contradiction in philosophy ; and to talk about " the 
anarchy of humors" — would mean as much as the anarchy of whims. 
Government, as recognized b}^ Democrac}^, pre-supposes manliness, knowl- 
edge, wisdom, — and the paternal relations of advice and control are not 
admitted. Guardianship is not consistent with individual independ- 
ence.^ When intelligence rules — a patronizing spirit becomes offensive, and 
ignorance disgusting. A fanatic may be the leader of the dominant party, 
and for a season he ma^^ be sustained b}^ the excessive zeal of others whose 
chief merit is to assent and follow, — but his leadership ceases the moment 



1 " Man, till capable," says Judge Wood- made subordinate without serious injury to 

bury, "by years of discretion and knowledge, the common design; these are — first, to 

to judge for himself in matters of govern- determine, as regards the nation in ques- 

ment, may well acquiesce in what he finds tion, who shall govern, who shall be gov- 

established." — Works, Vol. hi, p. 139. erned, and to arrange the actual working of 

2'<Xo race of Kings," says Jefierson, the constitutional power ; and secondly, to 

"has ever presented above one man of prescribe the exact sphere to which the 

common sense in twenty generations. The government, once constructed, should 

best they can do is, to leave things to their extend or confine its operations. The 

ministers ; and what are their ministers, but latter object, which more immediately em- 

a committee, badly chosen? If the king braces the private life of the citizen, and 

ever meddles it is to do harm." — Works, more especially determines the limits of 

Vol. II, p. 221. his free, spontaneous activity, is strictly 

3 Baron Humboldt says, — "In every speaking, the true ultimate purpose; the 

attempt to frame or reorganize a political former is only a necessary means for arriv- 

Constitution, there are two grand objects, it ing at this important end." — Sphere and 

seems to me, to be distinctly kept in view, Duties of Government, p. 2. 
neither of which can be overlooked or 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 303 

his party is made to suffer and is moved by the comprehensive spirit of 
intelligence. If men are not conscious of a superior power in themselves, 
to govern, others are able to see it in them, and to appreciate it. Its exist- 
ence is self asserted, and society acknowledges its rule. 

Jefferson says, — " The whole art of government consists in the art of 
being honest." This is true so far as the administration of a government is 
concerned, — but an honest official is not always a capable statesman, and 
-we often find capacity without integrity. An honest man will not under- 
take to do what he does not understand.^ A more comprehensive view is 
taken by M. Guizot, who says, — " By the side of those relations which 
create and regulate the will of those who are engaged in them, there is 
placed another social element, the government, which also creates and main- 
tains relations between men independent!}^ of their will. When I sa}' gov- 
ernment^ I comprehend under that word the powers of every kind which 
exist in societ}", from domestic powers which extend not be^^ond the famil}", 
up to the public powers which are placed at the head of the state. The 
entiret}^ of these powers is accordingly a miglit}^ social bond ; they not only 
give birth to many relations between men which their will alone could not 
create, but they impose upon those relations, and upon many others, per- 
petuity and regularity, the pledge of the peace and progressive develop- 
ment of societ3\ Individual wills and public powers, the free choice of 
men and the government, these are the two sources whence are derived 
human relations, and their transformation into active and permanent 
society." ^ 

This philosophical recital of facts is too general to give a clear idea of 
the principles of government \)j accepting the general proposition that all 
governments are founded on compromise. This is simply the process of 
adjustment, and it illustrates the progress of principle, but it does not 
explain it. It was remarked by Burke, in the British Parliament, that 
" All government, indeed every human benefit and enjoj^ment, every virtue 
and every prudent act, is founded on compromise and barter. We balance 
inconveniences ; we give and take ; we remit some rights that we may 
enjoy others ; and, we choose rather to be happy citizens, than subtle dis- 



i"Askthefirsttenmenyoumeet,"saysMr. aboutthat sort of machinery.' Nowaddress 

Butts, of New York, "if they respectively can the same ten men on the subject of politics ; 

manage a cotton factory, or a printing office, tell them you have a city to ' run ; ' and 

or an iron foundery, or even a steam engine, ask each one if he is competent to take the 

and it is probable that every one will answer ' management ' and see that none of the 

*No.' ' Why can't you, as I want a man interests committed to his charge shall 

to manage my factory? ' 'Why can't I?' suffer; probably every man would answer 

the questioned would respond in amaze- 'Yes,' without a show of doubt." 

ment. ' Why can't I manage your factory? 2 Hist. Civ., Vol. hi, p. 194. 
Simply because I don't know the first thing 



304: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

putants. As we must give aw ay some natural liberty, to enjoy civil advan- 
tages ; so we must sacrifice some civil liberties, for the advantages to be 
derived from the communion and fellowship of a great empire. But in all 
fair dealings the thing bought must bear some proportion to the purchase 
paid. None will barter away the immediate jewel of his soul." ^ Here, 
again, we see the process of adjustment, but when the principle itself is 
reached, the integrity of the soul, no further compromise is deemed possi- 
ble. It may often be attempted, but ultimate failure is inevitable. An 
important distinction is here to be made, between conceit of self import- 
ance and the obvious teachings of history. A man may be sincere and 
honest, and 3'et ignorant and bent upon error. Not designedl}^, because 
design implies judgment, and judgment knowledge and the right use of it. 
When a blind man can teach the philosophy of colors, an ignorant man can 
give a wise answer without knowledge. Conscience helps him according to 
the degree of its inherent strength, and as Shakespeare truly sa3's, — it " hath 
a thousand several tongues," but its speech is only upon the doings of the 
mind, whether much or little, whether strong or feeble. It acts on 
knowledge, it does not supply it. It feels, it does not think. In the 
absence of truth it is faithful to error. The true conscience deeply scruti- 
nizes itself, and emplo^^s an enlightened judgment to guard against the 
mistakes of ignorance, the impositions of the sinful, and the assumptions 
of will. 

Government is coeval with society. It is a necessity resulting from the 
nature and constitution of things. As a system, it is based upon knowl- 
edge, and as a power upon wisdom. It is successful when in harmony with 
the genius and condition of the people for whom it is designed, — and for 
the ver}^ obvious reason that it is adapted to their wants and powers of 
appreciation. It fails, w^henever it is made the instrument of injustice to 
the many to gratify the few, or whenever it ceases as a system to accom- 
plish for all what may be denominated the best good of any. It is not a 
creation by chance, or accident, — nor an impracticable theory that demands 
a good be3'ond the means which are possessed for accomplishing it. A 
thousand theories of government may be framed, and with high and pure 
motives of justice and philanthropy^, — but they are powerless and useless 
unless adapted to the capacities, circumstances and means of those the}^ are 
designed to aid or control. If they demand too much, — the}" are defeated 
by ignorance, for the reason that their provisions are those of knowledge, 
which require knowledge for their execution. If they ask too little, — the 
knowledge of the few becomes selfish, — and the moral standard of the 
many is left exposed to outrage and is deprived of its legitimate s^-mpa- 
thies. Hence, it ma}" be inferred that a government permitted is practically 

iParl. Deb., Vol. xviii, p. 527. 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 305 

a government by consent. Not personal or theoretical consent, but that 
consent acquired b}" usage, which is graduated to a high or a low standard 
accorded to those elements of power to be found in capacity and condition 
which vary as the mind is influenced or improved. Every step in progress 
adds a new power to societ}", — indeed, progress is but another word signi- 
fying the march of power in its varied forms of development and applica- 
tion. The doctrine of mighty is merely the plain doctrine of power, which 
implies not onl}^ control on the part of the government, but consent on the 
part of the governed. A demand for practical freedom, could not be 
expressed without an explicit knowledge of its conditions and privileges ; 
and, without a clear discernment of these an intelligent sovereign would be 
slow to lessen or to surrender his prerogatives. Submission to tyranny 
implies ignorance of freedom, because the knowledge incident to liberty is 
ever self protective. " Freedom," says Baron Humboldt, " is but the possi- 
bility of a various and indefinite activity ; while government, or the exercise 
of dominion, is a single, but }' et real activitj^" ^ Truth and justice are 
conditions of power, when recognized by an intelligent people, but t3Tann3' 
is a condition of weakness, if the people passively submit to its impositions. 
A government is characterized b}^ the people, and the people are made sub- 
ject to laws in harmony with their virtues and knowledge. A government 
is w^eak or strong, good or bad, according to the degree of knowledge with 
which it is administered, — and its most perfect form of success is to be 
found in democracy, — where the general welfare, and the consent of the 
people are made the basis of legislation. As true government is inherent 
in the constitution of things and has a common object, it follows that it 
must have a common origin, and that is to be found in the will of the people. 
This is denominated self government, which is practicable where a people 
are suflSciently intelligent to know their own wants, as well as the wants of 
others — and the best means of providing for them. A common standard is 
erected upon a constitution, and by this all legislation is to be weighed and 
measured.^ In the constitution the ends and means are declared, and by 
general consent these alone are deemed legitimate, — whether proposed by a 
King or a subject, by a republican President, or a citizen. 

It was a remark of Fenelon, that the King of Great Britain had " an 
unlimited power to do good, and was only restrained from doing evil." 



1 Sphere of Government, p. 3. inconveniences, and not accomphshing fully 

its object. But the good in this instance, 

2 Jefferson favored a Declaration of Rights vastly overweighs the evil." — Vol. hi, p. 3. 
— by way of supplement to a Constitution. A declaration of rights strictly adapted to 
In a letter to James Madison, 1789, he says a constitution would be an interpretation of 
— "The declaration of rights is, like all its principles,, and would afford important 
other human blessings, alloyed with some aid during all time in its construction. 

20 



306 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

This limitation reduces a monarch to a common level, and the remark is not 
alone applicable to England. It is even true of men. All nations do not 
have written constitutions, nor confirmed methods of testing the acts of 
government, — but there is no nation, that does not recognize a principle, 
or power, above government, either conventional, traditionary^, or divine. 
Christian despots kiss the Cross, and Pagan Kulers bow to their Idols, or 
to their Prophets. 

" The English Government," wrote Montesquieu in 1748, " has nothing 
to support it but a delusive outside, extremely flattering to the people, who 
fancy themselves the sole governors. I do not know any country where it 
is more easy to create such open dissensions, as may overthrow the state. 
A man of sense and generosity may, in ten years time, erect himself into 
a despotic Prince with more safety at London than at Moscow ; remember 
Cromwell.^ Money alone is sufficient to corrupt the whole Parlia- 
ment." ^ If Fenelon gave a theory above practice, it must be admitted that 
Montesquieu recited abuses exaggerated be3^ond fact. Fenelon feared an 
unprincipled King, and Montesquieu a corrupt Parliament. That the Gov- 
ernment of England had long been regarded as a government eminently 
responsible to the people, was admitted by all. 

To use the language employed in Massachusetts, in 1780, " Government 
is instituted for the common good ; for the protection, safety-, prosperity, 
and happiness of the people ; and not for the profit, honor or private inter- 
est of any one man, famil}', or class of men." 

In this brief sentence the blessings and abuses of government are clearly 
indicated, and if the reader will carefully note the language he cannot fail 
to have accurate views of measures tested by so plain a standard. 

There is a common remark that " the world is governed too much,'" — but 



1 Cromwell wanted only a government of the Congregational Churches." As he did 

the saints. "Pie spent eight days," says not succeed it is evident that in this ease "the 

Br. Lingard, (1653) in close consultation Spirit of God spoke (not) in him and by 

with his military divan; and the result was him." 

a determination to call a new parliament 2 << Montesquieu had sounded the institu- 
modclled on principles unknown to the tions," says Lamartine, " and analyzed the 
history of this or any other nation. It was laws of all people. By classing govern- 
to be a parliament of saints, of men who ments, he had compared them, by corapar- 
had not offered themselves as candidates, ing, he passed judgment on them ; and this 
or had been chosen by the people, but judgment brought out, in its bold relief, and 
whose chief qualification consisted in holi- contrast, on every page, right and force, 
ness of life, and whose call to the office of privilege and equality, tyranny and liberty." 
legislators came from the choice of the And yet, in giving his opinion of the gov- 
council." — Dr. Lingard' s Hist. Eng., Vol. ernment of England he omitted the most 
VIII, p. 197. important element of his subject — the laws 

He attempted to organize such a parlia- of national growth. 
.ment, and was aided by " godly persons and 



-K( 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 307 

this is claiming success for failure. True government is a blessing 
alwaj's, — and it is an abuse of language to call the experiments of legisla- 
tion government. When legislative experiments fail, — the world is gov- 
erned too little, — as evils are often permitted by a want of the knowledge 
of the right means to prevent them.i Legislation is not government, and 
government must not be mistaken for authority-. Government is the con- 
sistent and successful action of societv in the transaction of its own legiti- 
mate business by its own lawful agents. Authority implies the right to 
employ force, but not the ability to command unit}^ Principles in them- 
selves are laws, and just government is their result. Just government 
wisely provides for its own continuance and is successful ; an arbitrary or 
oppressive government fails to become strong and enduring because its 
helps are forced or fictitious. 

It is well understood that if business men conform to certain rules, 
they succeed ; otherwise, they fail. This truth is applicable to govern- 
ment. A government of eternal truth and justice — is self protective. It 
stands forever. If a government be based upon coercion, it cannot stand. 
It is against nature.^ It is self destructive. Mere force — is brute force. 
It is the control of power without reference to its moral application. It is 
supremely selfish. It knows no means of life except by means of death. 
It has no philosophy, it knows none, it wants none. It is well characterized 
bj" Milton, — 

" So spake the fiend, and with necessity. 
The tyrant's plea, excus'd his devilish deeds." 

Attempts have been made, in all ages, to explain and justify it, — but by 

*' The brute philosopher, who ne'er has proved 
The joy of loving or of being loved." 



1 The celebrated Count Oxenstiern, chan- duces deformity and premature death in 
cellor of Sweden, one day when his son was animals, and when fruit trees are too 
expressing to him his difiidence of his own much fertilized they are barren. The 
abilities, and the dread which he thought of difference in the results of freedom, when 
ever engaging in the ihanagement of public compared to those of coercion, is beauti- 
affairs, made the following Latin answer to fully stated by Baron Humboldt: "Free- 
him : Nescis, mi Jili, quam parvd cum dom exalts power; and, as is always the 

/ sapienid regitur mundus. You do not collateral effect of increasing strength, 
know, my son, with what little wisdom the tends to induce a spirit of liberality. Coer- 
world is governed." — De Lolme B^'it. Const, cion stifles power, and engenders all selfish 
p. 1024. The modesty of the son was more desires, and all the mean artifices of weak- 
commendable than the judgment of the ness. Coercion may prevent transgres- 
father. Without wisdom there can be no sions ; but it robs even actions which are 
government. With " little wisdom the world legal of a portion of their beauty. Free- 
is" not "governed." dom may lead to many transgressions, but 

2 Force is abhorrent to nature, whether as it lends even to vices a less ignoble form.'* 
an aid, or detriment. Over-feeding pro- — Sphere of Government^ p. 111. 



308 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Militar}^ power, of itself, is the power of the brigand. It is no less, no 
more. Its continuance depends upon management. By an accidental, or 
cunningl}' designed mixture of right with wrong, it occasionally^ succeeds ; 
but much good luck leads to recklessness, and the chance of success is ulti- 
matel}' lost. Military power, in no sense, is government, although gov- 
ernment may employ it. It is always to be the servant, but never the 
master. It is ordained to prevent war, not to make it ; to secure peace, 
not to destroy it. Joubart says, — " Force and right rule all things in the 
world ; force, before right arrives." If government be based upon a 
Church establishment, it cannot stand. The Church is of indispensable 
importance : its aids to weakness, its relief to ignorance, wickedness and 
misery caimot be measured, but its mission is special and limited. A 
limited agency cannot supply universal need.^ A government based on com- 
merce, or industrial pursuits, cannot stand. Trade centres in self 
— its object is gain. To favor special interests would be to ignore 
general good. Special legislation generally comes from excessive zeal, 



1 The church is variable and divided. The 
clergy occupy no permanent position of 
influence, they are uncertain. Neal gives 
the following specimen of the arbitrary 
manner in which the ministers were treated 
in England. It is an account of the exami- 
nation of the London clergy: *' When the 
ministers appeared in court, Mr. Thomas 
Cole, a clergyman, being placed by the 
side of the Commissioners, in priestly 
apparel, the Bishop's chancellor from the 
bench addressed them in these words : ' My 
masters, and ye ministers in London, the 
Council's pleasure is, that ye strictly keep 
the unity of apparel, like the man who 
stands here canonically habited with a 
square cap, a scholar's gown priest-like, a 
tippet, and in the church a linen surplice. 
Ye that will subscribe, write volo^ those 
that will not subscribe, write nolo. Be 
brief, make no words." Those that refused 
were suspended from office. In 1585 and 
1586, there were only two thousand minis- 
ters to serve ten thousand churches. Bishop 
Sandys, in one of his sermons before Queen 
Elizabeth, told her Majesty, that some of 
her subjects did not hear one sermon in 
seven years, and that their blood would be 
required of some one. Her Majesty thought 
three or four preachers in a county suffi- 
cient."— iVmZ, Vol. I, pp. 236, 359. 



In 1688-9, when the throne was deelared 
vacant, in Parliament, Pollexfen said: 
"Some of the clergy for one thing, some for 
another ; I think they scarce know what they 
would have." — Pari. Deb., Vol. v, p. 55. 
Maynard, an influential member, said : "I 
think the clergy are out of their wits ; and 
I believe, if the clergy should have their 
wills, few or none of us should be here 
again." The indignation at this time against 
the clergy was great, caused by their obvious 
desire to sacrifice the country to the inter- 
ests of the church. — See Buckle, Vol. 1, 
p. 294. 

Lord Brougham says, — " High Church- 
man " and ' ' High Monarchy Man " became 
synonymous terras. " Tory " implied both 
the one and the other ; and the watchword 
of the party was "Church and King ! " — a cry 
of a political nature, and not of a religious. 
The Whigs held an opposite course. They 
regarded the people as the real source of 
power." — Polit. Philos.,Yoh. i, p. 61. The 
alliance of church and state was well under- 
stood by Dr. Paley. He says, — "The sin- 
gle view under which we ought to consider 
a church establishment is that of a scheme 
of instruction — the single end we ought to 
propose by it is the preservation and con- 
firmation of religious knowledge. Every 
other idea and every other end that has 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 309 

or limited views. Exclusive reforms are apt to create new evils by 
unwise attempts to remove old ones. John Adams sa^'s, — " Harrington 
has shown that power alvvaj's follows propert3^ This I believe to be 
as infallible a maxim in politics, as that action and reaction are equal, in 
mechanics. Nay, I believe we may advance one step further, and affirm that 
the balance of power in a society accompanies the balance of property in land." 
That such is the tendency, cannot be denied, but the tendencies of things do 
not establish the standard either of good, or evil. The tendencies of 
things are like the drift wood upon the bosom of the tide, or river, — it 
floats with the prevailing current. It is the wisdom, or skill of life, to use 
these tendencies as the mariner uses the wind, to sail when it is right, and 
to anchor when it is wrong. It is true, a side breeze is made available, and 
when this is denied, resort is made to the oar, or to steam. But, in pur- 
suing this inquiry it is safe to follow the counsel of President Adams, to 
look to nature. " The first maxim of a statesman," says he, " as weU as 
that of a statuar}" or a painter, should be to study nature." Let us turn 
for a moment to histor}^ and science and see what nature teaches. What 
are her lessons on government, so far as we are able to discover them in 
man, and in natm-e. In history-, all governments are denominated good, or 
bad, according to their fruits as acknowledged and enjoj^ed by the people 
who have been the subjects of them. As it is expressed bj' Solomon, — 
" When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice ; but when tlie 
wicked beareth rule, the people mourn." " Inquire no longer, man ! " 
exclaimed Rousseau, *' who is the author of evil ; behold him in j^ourself. — 
Take awaj- every thing that is the work of man, and all the rest is good." 
In Bible history we read of the good reigns of Jehosophat, of Jotham, 
of Josiah, and of Hezekiah ; and of the wicked reigns of Jehoram, of 
Ahaziah, of Ahaz, and of Manasseh. In all nations, both ancient and 
modern, the record of man is the same, summed up in two words, good and 
evil. In the pursuit of good, all have the same motives, for no one can 
enjoy evil — all desire to be happ3\ Good produces benefit and happiness, 
e\T.l produces loss and miser}'. These maxims are as true of governments 
as of individuals. We have seen that the rule of Providence, Vox populi 
est vox Dei, is virtually acknowledged by all men, by all nations, both 
Pagan and Christian, but these are simpl}^ the facts of histor}'. We desire 
to understand them — so that we may know the standard of principle by 
which all governments are decided to be good or bad. 

The Christian rule of conduct among men, as given by St. Paul, is, 
"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Though nothing could be 
plainer, still, an explanation is added : " Love worketh no ill to 
his neighbor : therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." The 
principle is stated and explained, and the theory is as applicable to 
the general duties of the government as to the social or domestic duties of 



310 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



societ)'.^ Nations, as well as men, profess more than they practice, and 
it is a redeeming merit in man, that his prayers are ever in advance of his 
conduct. This rule of duty has for its basis the Attributes of Beitj^, but 
the illimitable extent of these cannot be comprehended by man, — -though 
it is the constant struggle of -an aspiring soul always to lessen its selfish 
aims and instincts, and to seek universal good. The standard is Infinite, 
but man is finite, and hence the struggle will be forever : 

*' Because in the great future buried deep, 
Beyond our plans of empire and renown, 
Lies all that man with ardour should pursue, 
And he who made him, bent him to the right." 

This is sound philosophj^ It is the philosophy of the maxim just 
quoted, — " Vox populi est vox Dei." 

This subject was beautifully presented by Solomon. His first view was of 
parental government : 

" My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of 
thy mother : Bind them continually upon thy heart, and tie them about th}* 
neck. When thou goest, it shall lead thee ; when thou sleepest, it shall 
keep thee ; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee.'* 

This is the government of the aflfections, where parental authority is 
exercised in harmony with the high requisitions of duty. ^ The governments 



been mixed with this — as the making of the 
church and engine, or even an ally of the 
state ; converting it into the means of 
strengthening or of ditFusing influence ; or 
of regarding it as a support of regal, in 
opposition to popular, forms of government 
—has served only to debase the institution, 
and to introduce into it numerous corrup- 
tions and abuses." 

1 " To do good to others ; " says Buckle, 
"to sacrifice for their benefit your own 
wishes ; to love your neighbor as yourself; 
to forgive your enemies ; to restrain your 
passions ; to honor your parents ; to respect 
those who are set over you : these, and a 
few others, are the sole essentials of morals ; 
but they have been known for thousands of 
years."— Vol. i, p. 129. 

2 "The universally pervading and gov- 
erning principle of the Chinese Empire," 
gays Lord Brougham, "is the Parental 
Authority. The father of a family has all 
but absolute power over its whole members. 



Even if he puts a child to death he is only 
punishable as for a minor offence ; but any 
outrage, even of a slight nature, upon his 
person, is punishable with death in the 
child. Such offences are, however, almost 
wholly unknown in a country where the 
utmost pains are taken to inculcate rever- 
ence for parents, from the earliest infancy 
of the child, as the most obligatory of all 
duties, and to make it a part of each per- 
son's nature. Some years ago a man joined 
with his wife in beating his mother : both 
were executed; the wife's mother was 
whipped, though wholly innocent ; the house 
in which they lived was razed to the ground ; 
the district was solemnly cursed; all the 
students belonging to it. were degraded ; and 
the magistrates were removed from their 
oflSces and banished from the place. The 
object of the law is to impress the mind 
with a feeling of the awful nature of this 
obligation. — PoliU Fhilos, Vol. i, p. 165. 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 311 

of nations, according to Solomon — should be based upon wisdom. Not the 
wisdom of man, but of the Lord, — a wisdom that is '' better than rubies ; 
and all things that may be desired are not to be compared to it." But 
wisdom is defined by herself: " I Wisdom dwell with Prudence, and find 
out knowledge of witty inventions. Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom : 
I am understanding ; I have strength. By me kings reign, and princes 
decree justice. By me princes rule, and nobles, even all the judges of the 
earth. Riches and honor are with me ; yea, durable riches and righteous- 
ness. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning or ever the earth 
was." This is the wisdom of Providence. 

"The wisdom of the Deity," says Paley, " as testified in the works of 
creation, surpasses all idea we have of wisdom drawn from the highest 
intellectual operations of the highest class of intelligent beings with whom 
we are acquainted." i On this wisdom is based the government of the uni- 
verse, and although it is bej'ond human capacity to fathom its depths and 
mysteries, — all are more or less able to see its illimitable beneficence. 

"Through worlds unnumbered though the God be known, 
' Tis ours to trace him only in our own." 

" Our human laws," says Froude, " are but the copies, more or less imper- 
fect, of the eternal laws so far as we can read them, and either succeed and 
promote our welfare, or fail and bring confusion and disaster, according as 
the legislator's insight has detected the true principle, or has been distorted 
by ignorance or selfishness." 

Turning from the Divine to human wisdom, and from the Divine to 
human government, — we are yet to observe the perfection of those laws, 
and the administration of them, — which regulate growth and which consti- 
tute the government of the entire external world. All things are created 
and placed in productive order, together, each part controlling and con- 
trolled, and all united under general laws, to agree or disagree, to accom- 
plish a pm-pose or to serve an end.* The elements, all forms of matter — • 



1 It was a saying in China, B. C. 2200 ; in order that the whole and each constituent 
*'It is only virtue that moves Heaven, there have free movement and scope for produc- 
is no distance to which it does not extend; tive exertion and full enjoyment of life, 
fulness invites diminution, while humility As the skull from the brain, of which it is 
receives additions; this is Heaven's way." — the shield, this outward should draw its 
— Shoo- King, Book i, p. 56. shape and character from the inward. 

2 " Simply protective," says Geo. H. Cal- " For reconstruction, outward mechanism 
vert, " ought to be the outward mechanism is powerless ; for that, we must, through the 
we call government, the genuine office of unfolding of all the individualities of civil- 
which is, to be a defensive rampart round a ized men, give full play to inward mover 
community and round each member thereof; ment, to which play good government 



312 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

are governed bj' unalterable laws, — which it is the business of the philoso- 
pher to unfold, and the practical man, or mechanic to apply. The fruits 
and flowers of the earth, are produced with a uniformity that indicates the 
government of nature, — and their failure is always to be traced either to 
the ignorance of man, which can be avoided, or to the unpropitious season, 
M hich cannot be foreseen. The arts are advanced by the faithful student 
just in that degree in which he comprehends the laws of nature, — or the 
government of things, — whether the problem be of form in marble, in 
expression upon the canvas, or in the harmony of sounds. 

Instinct — throughout the animated world has ever been invariable. Its 
government remains unchanged. It is a power made ready for specific 
action by the hand of Deity, — and requires no training for its purposes. 
It attemps no experiment, it commits no error. It is perfect, and cannot 
be improved by the feeble agency of man. The Bee forms its cell with no 
greater accm-acy, with no better finish now than when Virgil wrote. The 
Beasts and Birds, the Fishes and Insects of the world are no better pro- 
tected hj the precautions of nature in the days of Cuvier and Audubon, 
than they were when Confucius ^ taught, or when great Caesar ruled. 

With an imperfect idea of government where there can be no error, let 
us turn to the consideration of human government, the success of which 
depends upon human wisdom. But w^hat is human wisdom? Temple says 
— " Wisdom is that which makes men judge what are the best ends, and 
what the best means to attain them." Fleming says, — "Wisdom is the 
right use or exercise of knowledge, and differs from knowledge as the use 
which is made of a power or faculty differs from the power or faculty 
itself." These definitions both imply the necessity of knowledge as a 
prerequisite to wisdom. And " The word knowledge," says Bishop Whatele}', 
" strictly emplo3^ed implies three things, viz. truth, proof and conviction." 
But the right use of knowledge, or wisdom, implies the convictions of duty, 
as well as of mind. Here, then, we have the elements of wisdom which 
alone can form the basis of an organized government, a sj^stem of public 
dut}', accompanied with a declaration of rights, of principle, and rules of 
practice. A system of public means to establish equity, to execute justice, 



is conducive. When the man-contrived centuries before our era. The -writings of 

machinery is, or gets to be, discordant with Confucius, (from a Latin version of his 

the God-implanted internal forces, then gov- name — but in his own language Koong — 

ernment becomes oppressive and tyrannical, foo-tse) contemporary with Herodotus, and 

and is obstructive rather than protective." who flourished between five and six hundred 

— Social Science, p. 110. years B. C, record events five hundred 

years earlier." Confucius was a great phi- 

1*' After rejecting all the fabulous tradi- losopher and lawgiver — to whom the Chinese 

tions," says Lord Brougham," there is good State pay divine honors. — Polit. Phil. Vol. 

reason for allowing the annals of the Empire i, p. 163. Truths from all sources were 

(Chinese) to reach as far back as eleven centred in him. 



GOVERNMENT, ITS OBJECTS AND ENDS. 313 

to secure equal rights among men, to encourage industry and to promote 
happiness. The elements of this system are sometimes seen in individual 
character, in persons who appear to have an intuitive sense of truth and 
right, and of the right way of doing things. They are naturally leaders. 
This is seen among children. To this source, in some degree, George 
Combe traces the origin of government. In explanation of his views, he 
says, — " A good illustration of this occurs in the autobiography of Benja- 
min Franklin. The force of character arising from his large brain, and 
his fertility in expedients, made him a ruler in childhood as well as in 
mature age. " Residing near the water," says he, '' I was much in it and 
on it. I learned to swim well, and to manage boats ; and when embarked 
with other boys, I was commonly allowed to govern, especially in an}^ case 
of difficulty ; and upon other occasions I was generally the leader of the 
boys." 1 

Government is an institution framed by wisdom and adopted by consent. 
It is impersonal, made so b}^ mutual concession. It is the personification 
of citizenship. It is not the will of one man, nor the will of manj', but the 
will of all by conventional agreement. It is a delegated authorit}-, to be 
executed by chosen agents, and alike for all. Nothing is to be done by 
chance, or discretion, but by prescribed rules. All questions of intei'preta- 
tion, of precedent, of usage, of tradition, and of change, — are to be decided 
by established rules. The judiciary is the appointed interpreter. 

There can be no government where ignorance prevails. It must be one 
of knowledge — that principles may be understood ; it must be one of truth, 
that justice may be executed ; it must be one of wisdom, that legitimate 
means may be proportioned to legitimate ends ; it must be one of integrity, 
that the high requisitions of constitutional duty ma}^ be promptly met, and 
never evaded ; it must be one of honor, that character may be held sacred ; 
it must be one of equity, that freedom may be possible ; it must be one of 
character, that confidence may be commanded ; it must be one of religion, 
that man may be taught meekl}^ to bow to the will of God ; ^ it must be admin- 
istered by statesmen of capacity and experience, — so that wisdom may be 
distinguished from folly, truth from error, right from wrong, freedom from 
tyrann}', party from patriotism, and government from despotism. Despot- 
ism is not government ; party is not government ; priestcraft is not govern- 
ment ; the Church is not government ; the magistrates — elected to adminis- 



1 Combe's Moral Philosophy, p. 337. fragrant, and influences the immortal gods ; 

2 Chow-kung, an Emperor of China, who meat offerings have no sweet savour, but 
ruled B. C. 1103, expressed his opinion on resplendent virtue is odoriferous." — Shoo- 
this subject in the beautiful language of King, Book vi, p. 293. 

sentiment: "That perfect government is 



314 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



ter government, are not government ; but government is an institution 
which all help to make, and which all consent to obej^, when lawfully 
administered, and which all agree to defend with honor, life and property 
against the dangers of treason, or the perversions of party. Here, then, 
we cannot but see the sources of intelligent legislation. But, let us ask 
what is the difference between government and the administration of 
government. 



THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOVERNMENT, AND THE ADMINISTRA- 
TION OF GOVERNMENT. 

It is an axiomatic truth that there must be an organized government 
before it can be administered. The organization must be systematic, and 
practically efficient.^ The parts must be consistent one with another, and 



1 It is interesting to see how ingeniously 
an honest Tory justifies a tory administra- 
tion of a democratic government. Princi- 
ples are acknowledged but they are per- 
verted by application. Guizot says, "It is 
absurd to seek the principle of the political 
stability of government in the mobile ele- 
ments of society. The permanent elements 
of society must find in the government itself, 
powers corresponding to them, and offering 
a pledge for their security. A diversity of 
powers is equally indispensable to conserva- 
tion and to liberty. It is a matter of amaze- 
ment that this truth should be disputed, for 
the very men who dispute it have made a 
great step toward its admission and applica- 
tion. After establishing unity of power at 
the head of the state, they have admitted a 
division of powers lower down, on account 
of the diversity of functions. They have 
carefully separated the legislative, execu- 
tive, administrative, and judicial powers ; 
thus practically acknowledging the necessity 
of giving guarantees to different interests, 
by the separation and the different constitu- 
tion of these powers. How is it that they do 
not see that this necessity has a higher appli- 
cation, and that the diversity of the general 
interests of society and of the duties of the 
supreme power, imperatively requires a 
diversity of powers in the highest as well as 
in the subordinate spheres of government? 



"But to constitute a real and efficient 
diversity of powers, it is not enough that 
each should have a distinct place and name 
in the government ; it is also necessary that 
all should be strongly organized, all fully 
competent to fill and to maintain the place 
they occupy. 

" It is the fashion of th-e day to think that 
harmony among the powers of the state, 
and security against their excess, is to be 
found in their weakness. People are afraid 
of every kind of authority ; and in order to 
prevent their destroying each other, or 
encroaching upon liberty, they ingeniously 
endeavor to undermine them all in turn. 

" This is a monstrous error. Every weak 
power is a power doomed to perish by 
extinction or by usurpation. If several 
weak powers conflict, either one will become 
strong at the expense of the others, and will 
end in a tyranny, or they will trammel 
and neutralize each other, and the result 
will be anarchy." — Democracy in France^ 
p. 46. 

A Tory seems to be incapable of under- 
standing how a "unity of power," and a " di- 
versity of functions," can be explained unless 
the whole be submerged in the bottomless 
abyss of undefined and irresponsible author- 
ity. People are not afraid of authority 
legally exercised. They have much reason 
to fear usurped authority. All powers have 



GOVERNMENT AND ITS ADMINISTRATION. 



315 



the whole in harmony with the known views and wishes of the people who 
are to be the subjects of it. It must be adapted to their condition and 
wants. Otherwise it would be a mere jumble of precepts, a mockery of 
purpose, not a government. What a machine is, in Mechanics, a govern- 
ment is in philosoph3^ The machine is one thing, to work it is quite 
another. A machine may be complete and in perfect order, — but an 
ignorant bungler is more likel}- to break it than work it well. So of a gov- 
ernment. It may be all that the people want in form, in design, in charac- 
ter, but magistrates ignorant of the principles of government, or moved by 
dishonest motives to violate them for selfish purposes — would be utterly 
powerless for good. The}" could not administer it. 

The difference between a government and the administration of a govern- 
ment is fundamental. The one is an established institution, the other 
practically comprises its objects and uses. The one is the principle, and 
the other is the application of the principle. The one is the power, the 
other the use of the power. It may be legitimately used, or it may be 
subverted or abused.^ The machinery of constitutional government is a 
system of directions, checks and guards, — an agency under instructions. 
Magistrates are only authorized agents, and when they exceed their 
authority they cease to be magistrates.^ To turn again to nature, — the 
government of the farm, or the garden, is to be found in the constitution of 
nature, in the laws of vegetation as developed in the growth of trees, shrubs 



their degrees of importance, but the most 
unimportant power has its distinct and 
independent functions, and should be held 
iis inviolable as the most important. No 
power is weak that is legally exercised. 
All powers become as nothing when cen- 
tralized. It is clearly absurd to " seek the 
principle of the political stability of govern- 
ment," any where else but in the mobile ele- 
ments of society. *'It is a monstrous error " 
to assume, that any government can be 
strengthened by arbitrary power. Its tend- 
ency is always to weaken. 

1 It is well to quote a Tory in condemna- 
tion of a prevailing tory crime. Boling- 
broke says,—" To govern a society of 
Freemen by a Constitution, founded on the 
Eternal Eules of right Reason, and directed 
to p.omote the Happiness of the whole, and 
of every Individual, is the noblest Preroga- 
tive, which can belong to Humanity ; and if 
a man may be said, without profaneness, to 



imitate God in any case, this is the case. But 
sure I am, he imitates the Devil, who is so 
far from promoting the happiness of others, 
that he makes his own happiness to consist 
in the Misery of others ; who governs by no 
Rule but that of his Passions, whatever of 
appearances he is forced sometimes to put 
on ; who endeavors to corrupt the innocent, 
and to enslave the free ; whose business is 
to seduce or betray ; whose pleasure is to 
damn ; and whose triumph is to torment." — 
Dissertation on Parties, p. 146. 

2 The relations between a chief magis- 
trate and his counsellors are well stated by 
an ancient Emperor of China (B. C. 2000) : 
"You ministers constitute my legs and 
arms, my ears and eyes. Should I wish to 
aid the people, you must assist me ; should 
I wish to spread my power abroad, you 
must act for me." — Shoo-King. Book i, p. 
68. ^ 



316 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and plants, and in the soils, and it may be said that this government is 
administered by the farmer and gardener, and that their success is always 
according to knowledge. This government which is to be found in nature 
is always the same, and it is one of undeviating power.^ The seed ger- 
minates, each representing its own kind, and producing its own fruits. 
When rightly administered, — the results are both marvellous and beautiful. 
Products are perfected and made certain, and industry and knowledge are 
amply rewarded. The agriculturist, the manufacturer, the artist, and the 
mechanic, — are successful or otherwise, invariabl}^ according to their degree 
of knowledge of the natural laws, and their observance of them. This 
exact knowledge of the nature of things is much more important in the 
administration of government, in the moral world than in the physical. 
The one secures protection, without which there could be no enjoyments, 
the other enjoyments, which could not be realized without protection. 

Guizot says, — " It is difficult to determine with any degree of precision, 
what we ought to understand by administration in the government of a 
state. Nevertheless, when we endeavor to investigate this fact, we dis- 
cover, I believe, that, under the most general point of view, administration 
consists in the aggregate of means destined to propel, as promptly and 
certainly as possible, the will of the central power through all parts of 
society, and to make the force of societj^, whether consisting of men or 
mone}', return again, under the same conditions, to the central power. 
This, if I mistake not, is the tr,ue aim, the predominant characteristic of 
administration." ^ 

Again, he saj^s, — " The government of Louis XIY. was a great fact, a 
fact powerful and splendid, but without roots. Free institutions are a 



^ This undeviating power in nature is well many. Would the filbert tree die in the 

illustrated by an account of the growing attempt? Would it burst the mill-stone, or 

power of a tree in England. *' Walton would it lift it? In the end the little filbert 

Hall had at one time its own corn-mill, and tree lifted the mill-stone, and in 1863 wore 

when that inconvenient necessity no longer it like crinoline about its trunk, and Mr. 

existed, the mill-stone was laid in an Waterton used to sit upon it under the 

orchard and forgotten. The diameter of branching shade." — English Paper. 
this circular stone measured 5 1-2 feet; 2 To speak of "the will of the central 

while its depth averaged seven inches power," is tory language. The executive 

throughout ; its central hole had a diameter power of a constitutional government can 

of eleven inches. By mere accident, some have no will of its own except within the 

bird or squirrel had dropped the fruit of the prescribed sphere of official duty to bring 

filbert tree through this hole on to the earth, all the parts into harmony as a whole. And 

and in 1812 the seedling was seen rising up in doing this, it has no discretion, but to 

through that unwonted channel. As its conform to principles such as have been 

trunk gradually grew through this aperture approved and adopted at some time by the 

and increased, its^ower to raise the pon- expressed will of the people. 
derous mass of stone was speculated ou by 



GOVERNMENT AND ITS ADMINISTRATION. 317 

guarantee, not only of the wisdom of governments, but of their duration. 
No system can endure except by means of institutions." " A fact powerful 
and splendid, but without roots," is an expression of great significance. It 
refers to an administration without authoritj^, as a tree without roots is the 
semblance of a tree. A similar analogical illustration was given by 
Aristotle.^ Instead, however,of free institutions being a guarantee of the 
wisdom and duration of governments, it may more properly be said that 
free institutions are the evidence of sufficient knowledge and wisdom so to 
administer governments as to secure their success and duration. Free 
institutions are results, and when found, they are alwa^^s seen to be not 
only deeply rooted in soils made congenial, but they are vivified by an 
atmosphere of light and heat peculiarly their own. In speaking of the 18th 
century, Guizot adds a further remark, and speaks of the " almost com- 
plete disappearance of the government," and of " the human mind as the 
principal and almost the only actor." This was an administration without 
roots, or rather it was a weed with roots. In connection with this condi- 
tion, he alludes to " the universality of free inquir}-." In periods of free 
inquir}" the mind goes forward in its speculative flights, and apparently 
without any pause to investigate principles. Government gives place to 
new theories and experiments, and wisdom and experience, precedent and 
law are counted as obstacles to progress. Change is called reform. Dur- 
ing these periods, it is quite true, governments disappear, and in their stead 
we find the will of a fanatic, or a dictator, or the will of a part}^ which is 
deemed paramount to government. The spirit of usurpation rules, and 
government disappears, 

De Lolme saj^s, that " various inaccuracies exist as to the distinction 
between ' constitution ' and ' government.' ^ Bolingbroke correctly 
discriminates the one from the other. By " constitution," he sa3^s, " we 
mean, whenever we speak with propriety and exactness, the assemblage of 
laws, institutions, and customs, derived from certain fixed principles of 
reason, directed to certain fixed objects of public good, that compose the 
general S3^stem, according to which the community hath agreed to be 
governed." ^ 

" By ' gOA^ernment,' we mean, whenever we speak in the same manner, 
that particular tenor of conduct, which a chief magistrate, and inferior 
magistrates under his direction and influence, hold in the administration of 
public afiTau's." 



1 Aristotle believed "that both society 2 Else and Progress of EngUsh Constitu- 

and government are as congenial to the tion, Vol. i, p. 5. 
nature of man, as it is natural for a plant 

to fix its roots in the earth, to extend its 3 This definition is particularly applica- 

branches, or to scatter its seeds." — Ethics ble to the English Constitution. 
cmd Politics, Vol. ii, p. 2. 



318 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

" We call this a good government, when the execution of the laws, the 
observation of the institutions and customs, in short, the whole administrar 
tion of public affairs, is wisely pursued, and with a strict conformity to the 
principles and objects of the constitution. 

" We call it a bad government, when it is administered on other princi- 
ples, and directed to other objects, either wickedly or weakly, either by 
obtaining new laws which want this conformity, or by preventing old ones 
which had it ; and when this is done without law, or in open violation of 
the laws, we term it tyrannical government. In a word, and to bring this 
home to our own case, constitution is the rule, by which our Princes ought 
to govern, at all times ; government is that, by which they actually do 
govern, at any particular time. One remains immutable ; the other may, 
and as human nature is constituted, must vary. One is the criterion, by 
which we are to try the other ; for surely we have a right to do so, since if 
we are to live in subjection to the government of our kings, our kings are 
to govern in subjection to the constitution ; and the conformity-, or non- 
conformity of their government to it, prescribes the measure of our sub- 
mission to them, according to the principles of the Revolution, and of our 
present settlement ; in both of which, though some remote regard was had 
to Blood, the preservation of the Constitution manifestlj^ determined the 
community to the choice then made of the persons, who should govern." 
But what is government as defined by the British Constitution ? 



THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 

Government is either Absolute or Democratic. The one centralizes all 
power in the will of a sovereign ; the other recognizes the will of the people 
as the source of all power, and subdivides and delegates such power to be 
exercised by agents duly appointed according to a constitution. All other 
forms of government, of whatever name, are adjusted upon the scale of 
degree — between these two. An Absolute government may become demo- 
cratic, or a Democratic government may become despotic, in practice, but 
in both cases there would be a departure from the standard of principle. 
Constitutions are either conventional, or written, embodying declarations of 
principle, and defining ultimate purposes ; or they are the aggregated results 
of precedent, to be found in the experience of the past, or in the conclusions 
of Courts of justice and of equity, and established by prescriptive usao-e. 
The British Constitution is of the latter class. It is not written, in form, 
but is to be found in the acts and doings of the British nation, as recorded 
in history. The British government is one of growth, and not of conven- 
tional origin. It rests upon great principles, which have been developed 
b}' experience and established b}^ the individual and collective wisdom of 



THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 319 

the nation.^ The great interests and rights of man have been discussed 
and tested by axioms of justice. The rights of society have been asserted, 
and the duties and prerogatives of government declared.^ " Most of those 
who treat of the English Constitution," says De Lolme, " consider it as a 
scheme of government formally planned and contrived by our ancestors, in 
some certain era of our national history, and as set up in pursuance of 
such regular plan and design. Something of this sort is secretly supposed 
or referred to, in the expressions of those, who speak of the ' principles of 
the constitution,' of bringing back the constitution to its ' first principles,* 
of restoring it to ' its original purit}^,' or principles." * * *. " The 
constitution of England, like that of most countries of Europe, hath grown 
out of occasion and emergency ; from the fluctuating policy of different 
ages, from the contentions, successes, interests, and opportunities, of 
different orders and parties of men in the communit}'." ^ 

With a due allowance for a weakness which is as common as humanitj', 
and as commendable as love of native soil, we are free to confess that there 
is much truth in the following passage from Hallam : 

" No unbiassed observer, who derives pleasure from the welfare of his 
species, can fail to consider the long and uninterruptedly increasing pros- 
perity of England as the most beautiful phenomenon in the history of man- 
kind. Climates more propitious may impart more largel}^ the mere enjo}'- 
ments of existence ; but in no other region have the benefits that political 
institutions can confer been diffused over so extended a population ; nor 
have any people so well reconciled the discordant elements of wealth, order, 
and liberty. These advantages are surely not owing to the soil of this 
island, nor to the latitude in which it is placed ; but to the spirit of its laws. 



1 In an essay published in 1772, Samuel approbation, and think it has deduced the 

Adams says, "Vattel tells us plainly and with- constitutiou of the English nation from its 

out hesitation ' that the supreme legislative rightful root, the Anglo-Saxon. It is really 

cannot change the constitution ; ' that ' their wonderful, that so many able and learned 

authority does not extend so far ; ' and that men should have failed in their attempts to 

'they ought to consider the fundamental laws define it with correctness. Great authori- 

as sacred, if the nation has not in very express ties have declared, that the will of parlia- 

terms given them power to change them, ment is the constitution of England. So 

The constitution of the state ought to be Marbois, before the French revolution, 

fixed." — *S^. Adams, Vol. i, p. 455. In a observed to me, that the Almanac Royal was 

letter to a correspondent in London, dated the constitution of France." * * * "It 

Dec. 20, 1765, Adams says, "The British has ever appeared to me, that the difference 

Constitution is founded in the principles of between the whig and the tory of England 

nature and reason." — Ibid, Vol. i, p. 97. is, that the whig deduces his rights from 

'-^ In a letter to Major John Cartwright, the Anglo-Saxon source, and the tory from 

dated June 25th, 1824, Jefferson says, — "I the Norman." — Pa^er^, Vol. vii, pp. 355-6. 

have read your valuable volume on the 3 Stephens' edition, p. 4. 
British Constitution with pleasure and much 



320 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

from "which, through various means, the characteristic independence and in- 
dustriousness of our nation have been derived. The Constitution, therefore, 
of England must be to inquisitive men of all countries, far more to ourselves, 
an object of superior interest ; distinguished especiallj^, as it is, from all 
free governments of powerful nations which history has recorded, by its 
manifesting, after the lapse of several centuries, not merely no symptom of 
irretrievable decay, but a more expansive energy. Comparing long periods 
of time, it may be justly asserted that the administration of government 
has progressively become more equitable, and the privileges of the subject 
more secure ; and, though it would be both presumptuous and unwise to 
express an unlimited confidence as to the durability of liberties, which owe 
their greatest security to the constant suspicion of the people, 3'et, if we 
calmly reflect on the present aspect of this country, it will probably appear, 
that whatever perils may threaten our constitution are rather from circum- 
stances altogether unconnected with it than from any intrinsic defects of its 
own."i 

While Hallam traces the national advantages of England to the spirit 
of the laws, he forgets to point out the origin of that spirit. The laws are 
dependent upon character, and character upon race. No one would admit 
that such laws could emanate from the Chinese, or from the African, or 
that either could administer them if placed in authority. Brief reference 
can only be made to the varied experience of England to indicate the nu- 
merous sources which have united to give birth to her highest claim to dis- 
tinction and glory — the British Constitution. The chief glory of this, is 
its democracj^ 

Nothing could be more favorable to the developments of mind, than the 
displays and discipline of passion, the tests of pride, the adjustment of 
extreme and conflicting interests, the administration of justice, the perpet- 
ual difficulties of peace and war, to be found in the long and trying career 
of England. 2 From the reduction of numerous tribes to the Heptarchy,^ 



1 Hallam, Vol. v, p. 1. 3 Lord Brougham says, — " The Constitu- 

2 It is always a privilege to put a tory on tions of the Saxons appear to have been the 
record when he speaks the truth. Boling- same in the several kingdoms of the Heptar- 
broke says, — " If liberty be that delicious chy, and afterwards in the United Kingdom, 
fruit, on which the British nation hath fed The descent of the Crown was irregular, 
for so many ages, and to which we owe our because the ideas of men on hereditary suc- 
riches, our strength, and all the advantages cession were not matured; and when a prince 
we boast of; the British Constitution is the left a son, more especially if that son was 
tree, that bears this fruit, and will continue very young, a dispute frequently arose be- 
to bear it, as long as we are careful to fence tween his claims and those of his grandfather's 
it in, and trench it round, against the beasts second son, that is, the young prince's elder 
of the field, and the insects of the earth." — paternal uncle. The choice in such cases 
J)isscrt. on Parties, p. 191. devolved upon the leading men — the chief 



BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 321 

and of the Heptarcli}' to a single monarchy, and during a long period of 
monarchial trials, — we find all the elements which are common to humanit}^ ; 
of strength and weakness, of wisdom and foil}', of integrity and perfid}-, 
of refinement and barbarism, of honor and dishonor, of patriotism and trea- 
son, of ignoriance and error, — and consequently^ of glory and shame. ^ 
Although there is much to excite commiseration and contempt, yet, there 
is more to admire than abhor, more to approve than condemn. Indeed, 
when we look to the rude chaos of barbarism of ancient Briton, and turn 
to the high civilization of the same country at the present time, we cannot 
but mingle our admiration with the sentiment of wonder, — in contemplating 
the beautiful certainties of progress. It has been truly said — that the glories 
of England are to be found in the British Constitution. It is the record of 
her deeds, conflicts and progress. It is one of diversity — and the enumer- 
ation can hardly be exhausted. The wars of races, the struggles and re- 
duction of kingdoms, the supremacj^ and the impeachments of ro3^alty ; the 
creation of councils and courts, of towns and counties ; the trial b}^ jury, 
the rise and fall of feudalism ; the right of legislation, the Magna Charta, 
and the recognition of a constitution ; ^ the theory of nobility, the recogni- 



land owners or thanes of the country ; and 
even when there existed no dispute, the 
form of an election appears in all cases to 
have been observed, and the sovereign is 
always said in the Chronicles to have been 
chosen King (^electus in RegftMi)." — Vol. 
Ill, p. 197. ^ 

1 "The cries of the people," says Boling- 
broke, " and the terror of approaching elec- 
tions have defeated the most dangerous 
projects for beggaring and enslaving the 
nation ; and the majority without doors hath 
obliged the majority within doors to truckle 
to the minority. In a word, two things 
may be said with truth of our Constitution, 
which I think neither can, nor never could 
be said of any other. It secures society 
against the miseries, which are inseparable 
from simple forms of government, and is 
liable as little as possible to the inconven- 
iences, that arise in mixed forms." — Dissert. 
on Parties., p. 206. 

2 The formation and growth of towns and 
counties did not originate in England, 
tliough it may be said that their importance 
was there first demonstrated. They are the 
natural methods by which intelligent society 
is developed. They are not invented, but 
discovered as the obvious means of public 

21 



action. In respect to Trial by Jury ^ Ilallam 
says, "It had been a prevailing opinion, 
that trial by jury may be referred to the 
Anglo-Saxon age, and common tradition has 
ascribed it to the wisdom of Alfred." * * 
"In comparing the various passages which I 
have quoted, it is impossible not to be 
struck with the preference given to twelve, 
or some multiple of it, in fixing the number 
either of judges or compurgators.. This was 
not peculiar to England. Spelman has pro- 
duced several instances of it in the early 
German laws. And that: number seems to 
have been regarded with equal veneration 
in Scandinavia." In speaking of Magna 
Charta., Hallam says, — "As this was the 
first effort towards a legal government, so it 
is beyond comparison the most important 
event in our history, except that Kevolution 
without which its benefits would' rapidly 
have been annihilated: The Constitution of 
England has^ intleed' no siiigle date from 
which its dliratibn is to be reckoned. The 
institutions of positive law, the far more 
important- changes which time has wrought 
in the- ordfer of society during:^ six hundred 
years subsequent to the Great' Charter, have 
undoubtedly lessened its- dtrect application 
to oufr present! circumstances. But it is still 



322 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

tion of the Chnrcli, the organization of Parliament ; the divisions of govern- 
ment, and the rights and prerogatives of each department ; the responsi- 
bilit}' of ministers, and the accountability of the Crown ; the power of 
taxation, and the rights of suifrage ; the extinction of villenage and slavery, 
the establishment of regencies and protectorates, — indeed, all that variety 
of measures which emanate from a low condition of necessit}^, or from a 
high condition of democrac}^, — and gradually give birth to laws which se- 
cure protection to society, and freedom and justice to man. All these 
slow processes of thought and wisdom, these periods of war and peace, 
these victories and defeats, successes and failures, — this long and fearful 
experience of more than eighteen hundred years, collected, shaped, and 
sj^stematized b}^ the most gifted minds of the nation, constitute the British 
Constitution. ^ If the skeptic desires to solve the great problem, the reality 
of progress, he has only to study the history of the British Constitution. 
It is a monument to wisdom, and though diffused through ages — it rises 
distinctl^^ before us, in its moral proportions of grandeur, and the student 
of history will find no difficult}^ in appreciating the high encomiums upon it 
which have been so often uttered by illustrious men, and especially by our 
Fathers Avho participated in its glories before the Revolution. It is deemed 
proper thus to give a hasty sketch of what some superficial writers have 
derisivel}'^ denominated the " British Constitution," — so that the reader 
may more fullj^ understand the fearful responsibilities assumed by the Tory 
party — when they persistently violated some of its most obvious and sacred 
provisions, provisions as distinct and well defined by fact and analj^sis — as 
^could be made by human judgment, or expressed by the power of language. 



itbe'.key-stone of English liberty." — Middle Lords, very uncertain ; their debates stormy. 

Ages, Vol. v, pp. 12, 15, 37. Occurrences like these indicate a constitu- 

1 In speaking of the period of revolution, tion setthng, rather than settled." — Modern 

1688, Prof. Smyth says, — "From a consid- Hist. p. 387. The same author remarks, 

eration of the debates and transactions of and he utters a great truth, — "that the 

this period, the constitution appears to be Revolution is still the great characteristic 

in the act of assuming its last and more feature of our constitution and government, 

regular .form. Its different parts must be It must remain so." — Ih. p. 424. 

looked upon as at that time falling, rather ^ it was one of the inquiries of Paine 

than as having already fallen into their (Crisis) " Whether there is such a thing as 

appointed places. Thus, we have in the the Enghsh constitution?" In his " Rights 

cabinet administrations made up of men of Man," he asks, " Can, then, Mr. Burke 

differing .from each other in their princi- produce the English constitution? If he 

pies ; in the Hauses, the members of a cannot, we may fairly conclude, that though 

party, often -opposing the measures of their it has been so much talked about, no such 

friends in office ; the .King giving his veto to thing as a constitution exists, or ever did 

bills 'that had passed the Houses, from his exist, and consequently the people have a 

inability to resist them in any other manner ; constitution to form." 
the decisions of the Commons, and even the 



THE BEST FORM OF GOVEHNMENT. 323 

Its great achievements have been those of Democracy. But allowing that 
certainty is reached in an accurate knowledge of principles, is there any 
rule by which to determine what may be denominated as the best form of 
government ? 

THE BEST FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 

All men agree in expressing their wants and preferences, but ihej differ 
widely in their choice of means to secure them. All desire to be rich, — 
but with what diversity of plans, of folly, of wickedness ; with what variety 
of success and failure. All desire to be happy, — but the want of self-knowl- 
edge, and the ignorance of mankind — lead to more errors than human wis- 
dom can correct, to more misery than human weakness can bear. All desire 
to be eminent, — but how few have the genius to realize the promises of their 
aspirations, or the skill to rise above the ordinary distinction of mediocrity. 
Human judgment is not equal to the demands of human wishes. If this 
be true in the common affairs of life, how much more true when it is at- 
tempted to solve the difficult problems of government, and to decide what 
form is best. If man fails in meeting the expectations of one mind, or the 
wants of one family, — how can he hope to succeed in administering to the 
wants of millions who represent not only the conflicting interests of labor 
and commerce, but all the varied passions of men in their discords and 
harmony, in their conditions of frenzy and wickedness ? But the question 
returns — What form of government is best? Many answer, — but few agree. 
All ask for the same results, — but with what discordant means ! 

The form of government — is simply the method of doing public business, 
and it has its origin in the circumstances and condition of the people who 
adopt it, and at the times when adopted. Absolutism prevails in the in- 
fancy of civilization, and democracy in the civilization of manhood. The 
highest form of which man is capable of administering is the democratic, 
and therefore the -best. Its name implies the highest standard of principle 
— justice and equal rights to the people. The form of a government does 
not necessarily secure freedom, nor lead to tyranny. That form is best 
which is best systematized to meet the wants, and to advance the Adews of 
the people who adopt it. In fact — no other form is practicable. 

The sentiment of the poet, 

"For forms of government let fools contest; 
What'er is best administered is best," 

is not to be commended, for in such a proposition both common sense and 
philosophy are entirely ignored. That the best form administered the best, 
would be superior to the worst form the best administered, — no one would 
venture to doubt. According to Plato — " Monarchy is the best government, 
or the worst." This is ascribing all efficiency to administration, nothing 



324 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

to the form. In supposing two forms in comparison, it must be borne in 
mind that the trial is to be made by the same degree of talent of adminis- 
tration in each, and under similar circumstances. In other words — all 
things being equal, except the form, the form becomes the characterizing 
agent. The requisite qualities and qualifications that would make a suc- 
cessful monarch, would not give success to a republican president. Each 
and every form of government has its distinctive spirit, or genius, and with 
this is combined the capacity for its administration, whether it be much, or 
little. Therefore, to compare the ultimate success of two forms of govern- 
ment, administered by unequal agents, with a view to establishing a prefer- 
ence based upon experiment, would be useless. This proposition is made 
still more obvious, when two kings under the same monarch}', or two pres- 
idents under the same republic, — are compared in view either of their suc- 
cess or failure. The success or failure of either may not be attributable to 
the form of government, so much as the abilit}-, or the want of it, in its 
administration. In speaking of abilitj^, the word is used in its comprehen- 
sive sense, and made to embrace character as well as knowledge. The 
requisite character, the requisite knowledge. All governments may essen- 
tially be classed under two forms — the Monarchical, and the Republican. 

MONARCHY. 

A Monarchy is a government of a single person, although the name is 
retained when the power of the monarch is restrained or limited by legisla- 
tion. The fact of its being hereditary, or constitutional — does not take 
away its name though its strict definition is abandoned. ^ Aristotle claimed 
that monarchy was the first form of government established by nature, and 
this was asserted by Poly bins. By some its origin has been traced to 
Divinity and it was assumed that it was an unpardonable sin to oppose it. 
Just before his execution, Charles I. declared — "that contempt of the 
rights of the sovereign was the true cause of the people's misfortunes, that 
the people ought to have no share in the government, that upon this condi- 
tion alone would the country regain peace and its liberties." He claimed 
to be king by grace of God. All things were A Deo et rege, ^ This doc- 



1 A monarchy, is that form, in which the the nobles, or people, or both. Park's Pan- 
will of one man, styled monarch, emperor, tology. 

king, or otherwise, is the supreme law of the 2 "First of all comes monarchy," saya 
nation. If his will is restricted by charters, Polybius, "which is established by the bare 
constitutions, or other means, the monarchy work of nature, independently of any prep- 
is said to be constitutional or limited \ but aration or design." 

if not, it is called an absolute monarchy or 3<<it ^as gravely maintained," says 

2i despotism. A. mixed monarchy is one in Macaulay, ''that the Supreme Being re- 

which the supreme power is shared with garded hereditary monarchy, as opposed to 



MONAKCHT. 



325 



trine was publicly abandoned — although it would not be difficult to find its 
adherents in all ages. It has been alternatel}' denounced and commended 
b}' the same people. Its admirers boast of its vigor and promptness, both 
at home and abroad, in asserting justice and in defending the rights of its 
subjects. They claim that it commands unity and eflScienc}^, — not being so 
liable as Republics to distracting counsels. The}^ claim that it is conducive 
to honor, and favorable to chivalry'-, that its patronage advances the arts 
and sciences — by its gifts and distinctions. It is asserted, too, that its 
rule is more permanent than that of republics, and that the dangers of a 
selfish ambition are not so likely to divide and irritate the people — who are 
secured in " the hereditary principle of succession in perfection." i Montes- 
quieu, speaking of the genius of a monarchy, and quoting the political tes- 
tament of Cardinal Richelieu, says, — " If, there should chance to be some 
unlucky honest man among the people, a prince should take care not to 
employ him. So true is it that virtue is not the spring of this govern- 
ment." 2 

This subject was discussed by John Dickinson, an able and distinguished 
member of a convention assembled in Pennsylvania, to consider the great 
theme of independence. 



other forms of government, with peculiar fa- 
vor ; that the rule of succession in order of 
primogeniture was a divine institution, ante- 
rior to the Christian, and even to the Mosaic 
dispensation; that no human power, not 
even that of the whole Legislature — no 
length of adverse possession, though it ex- 
tended to ten centuries, could deprive the 
legitimate prince of his rights ; that his au- 
thority was always necessarily despotic ; 
that the laws by- which, in England and in 
other countries, the prerogative was limited, 
were to be regarded merely as concessions 
which the sovereign had freely made and 
might at pleasure resume ; and that any 
treaty into which a king might enter with 
his people was merely a declaration of his 
present intentions, and not a contract of 
which the performance could be demanded. 
It was at this time that those strange theo- 
ries which Filmer afterward formed into a 
system, and which became the badge of the 
most violent class of Tories and High- 
churchmen — first emerged into notice." 
Hist. England, Vol. i, p. ^Q. 

1 "The effects of pure monarchy," says 
liord Brougham, "and its companion aris- 



tocracy, upon the character and habits of 
the nation are easily traced. The tendency 
is towards making men regard only their 
superiors. The will of the court and upper 
classes becomes the law, and their habits 
the example for all. Court favor and the 
countenance of nobles are the objects of 
universal pursuit. The sterling, the manly 
virtues are little cultivated. Personal cour- 
age, honorable feelings, public spirit, exist 
in the upper classes, and exist in good 
measure ; but it is to please and serve the 
masters of the State." * * * "There 
is one virtue which this constitution and all 
monarchy possesses beyond any other, the 
fixed order of succession by inheritance." 
* * "Elective monarchy is of all forms 
of government the worst and the most incon- 
sistent with itself." * * "No absolute 
monarchy can exist without the rule of in- 
heritance ; no limited monarchy can well 
exist without it. When the people are fit 
to be entrusted with the choice of their 
chief magistrate, they are fit for living under 
a commonwealth." Polit. Philos., Vol. i, 
p. 1G3. 

^Esprit des Loix 1, iii, c. 5 



326 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

" I know," said he, " tlie name of liberty is dear to each one of us ; but 
have we not enjoyed liberty even under the English monarchy ? Shall we 
this day renounce that, to go and seek it in I know not what form of repub- 
lic, whicli will soon change into a licentious anarchy and popular tjTanny ? 
In the human body the head only sustains and governs all the members, 
directing them, with admirable harmony, to the same object, which is self- 
preservation and happiness ; so the head of the body politic, that is, the 
king in concert with the parliament, can alone maintain the members of 
this empire, lately so flourishing, and prevent civil war by obviating all the 
evils produced by variety of opinion and diversity of interests. And so 
firm is my persuasion of this, that I firmly believe the most cruel war which 
Great Britain could make upon us, would be that of not making any ; and 
that the surest means of bringing us back to her obedience, would be that 
of employing none." 

This example from nature in defence of monarchy fails entirely when 
examined. If the head truly represents the king — it must be a king without 
subjects, and a sceptre without a kingdom. The head, or the brain is the 
seat of consciousness, the organ of the mind, and no other member of the 
body is invested with such a function or capacity. And who is to be king, 
— the person of royal birth but with an idiot's brain, or the peasant with 
the head of a Washington, or a Franklin? "I afl3rm," sa3's Victor 
Hugo, " in the name of the eternal laws of human morality, that Monarchy 
is an historical fact, and nothing more." ^ But Mr. Dickinson leaves nature 
and turns to history. He continues, — 

'' There are many persons, who, to gain their ends, extol the advantages 
of a republic over monarch}^ I will not here undertake to examine which 
of these two forms of government merits the preference. I know, however, 
that the English nation, after having tried them both, has never found re- 
pose except in monarchy. I know, also, that in popular republics them- 
selves, so necessary is monarchy to cement human society, it has been 
requisite to institute monarchial powers, more or less extensive, under the 
names of Archons, of Consuls, of Doges, of Gonfalioniers, and finally of 
Kings. ■^ Nor should I here omit an observation, the truth of which appears 



1 Speech on the question of revising the was the cousin of Anne, who was the sister 

French Constitution, 1851. of William and Mary, who were the daugh- 

^ The following " Royal Pedigree" of Eng- ter and son-in-law of James the Second, 

land, was published during the American who was the son of Charles the First, who 

lievolution, — supposed to be written by was a traitor to his country and decapitated 

Thomas Paine: "George the Third, who as such, who was the son of James the 

was the grandson of George the Second, First, who was the son of Mary, who was 

who was the son of George the First, who the sister of Edward the Sixth, who was 

was the son of the Princess Sopliia, who the son of Henry the Eighth, who was the 



MONARCHY. 



127 



to me incontestable ; the English Constitution seems to be the fruit of the 
experience of all anterior time ; in which monarchy is so tempered, that 
the monarch finds himself checked in his efforts to seize absolute power ; 
and the authority of the people is so regulated, that anarchy is not to be 
feared. But for us it is to be apprehended, that when the counterpoise of 
monarchy shall no longer exist, the democratic power may caLvry all before 
it, and involve the whole in confusion and ruin. Then an ambitious citizen 
may arise, seize the reins of power, and annihilate liberty forever ; for such 
is the ordinary career of ill-balanced democracies, they fall into anarchy, 
and thence under despotism." 

Mr. Dickinson is quoted as a representative thinker of the times, and as 
an unexceptionable exponent of a party then existing both in America and 
England. He was a democrat, but a monarchist. ^ There were many such. 



cold-blooded murderer of his wives, and the 
promoter of the Protestant religion, who 
was the son of Henry the Seventh, who slew 
Richard the Third, who smothered his 
nephew Edward the Fifth, who was the son 
of Edward the Fourth, who with bloody 
Richard slew Henrj"^ the Sixth, who suc- 
ceeded Henry the Fifth, who was the son of 
Henry the Fourth, who was the cousin of 
Richard the Second, who was the son of 
Edward the Third, who was the son of Rich- 
ard the Second, who was the son of Edward 
the First, who was the son of Henry the 
Third, who was the son of John, who was 
brother of Richard the First, who was the 
son of Henry the Second, who was the son 
of Matilda, who was the daughter of Henry 
the First, who was the brother of William 
Rufus, who was the son of William the Con- 
queror, who was the son of a whore." 

Guizot asks, "Forwhathave nations blessed 
kings ? Was it for their pretensions to di- 
vine right, to absolute power ? For their 
profusion? For their courts? No; kings 
assailed the feudal system and aristocratical 
privileges ; they introduced unity into legis- 
lation, and into the executive administration ; 
they aided the progress of equality." — Rev. 
England, p. 11. 

1 John Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, was a 
writer of great influence at an early period 
of the Revolution. He commenced his cel- 
ebrated " Farmer's Letters" in the fall of 
1767. Samuel Adams "was so pleased with 



the purity of style and devoted patriotism 
of those writings," says his biographer, 
" that he repeatedly quoted them in his own 
essays, as if anxious that the New England 
people should not miss their benign influ- 
ence. No man south of Massachusetts had 
done so much in the press as Dickinson to 
support the popular cause." — Vol. ii, p. 58. 
Adams was poor, Dickinson was a gentleman 
of leisure, and wealthy. The former a re- 
publican democrat, the latter a monarchical 
democrat. In comparing them, Mr. Wells 
says, — "There was a wide difference be- 
tween the two men. Both were ardently 
devoted to American liberty, each was rec- 
ognized as the ablest writer in his section of 
the continent, and each commanded public 
respect by his unaffected piety and love of 
justice. But while the most cherished wish 
of Adams was the total independence of his 
country, Dickinson, who for some time in- 
fluenced Pennsylvania through the general 
admiration of his character, shrunk from 
such a thought, and longed for nothing more 
than conciliation." — Ihid. 58. In a letter 
to him dated March 27th, 1773, Mr. Adams 
says, — " Could your health or leisure admit 
of it, a publication of your sentiments on 
this and other matters of the most interest- 
ing importance would be of substantial ad- 
vantage to your country." In reply, the 
next month, Mr. Dickinson says, — " My 
heart is devoted with the most ardent affec- 
tion to the interests of my countrymen. I 



328 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Thej' did not look for democracj^ in the form of the government, so nauch, 
as in the administration of it. The}^ had studied but little beyond the 
principles of the Revolution of 1688. This subject will be further elucidated 
in other chapters. 

Mr. Dickinson speaks of the fact that England had trie^ both forms of 
government, the monarchical and republican, but he omitted the more im- 
portant fact, that the experiment of republicanism was by means of revo- 
lution, and not b}^ growth and preparation. The Comnaonwealth of Crom- 
well was of spasmodic formation, a struggle to create separate and 
independent parts, from centralized power, instead of finding parts duly 
prepared to be brought together as a whole. It must be remembered that 
the true basis of a republic is to be found in the subdivisions of society, 
each subdivision having a distinct and mature organization of its own, and 
in addition, in some degree, a federal experience. And when Mr. Dickin- 
son speaks in terms of admiration of the English Constitution, and of its 
checks upon the King, — he fails to give a correct anal^'sis even of his own 
faith. The progress of freedom has its securities in the advancing intelli- 
gence of the people, and as the}^ prepare themselves for self-government— 
they gradually and slowly assume the power surrendered by royalty. It 
passes from the King to the people, — not bj^ enactment but by their im- 
proved condition to act for themselves. The fountain is not lowered, but 
the streams are raised. It is the nature of mental power to assert its own 
strength and dignit}', and to claim to exercise its own conscious prerogatives. 

That the eloquence of Mr. Dickinson made no impression upon the peo- 
ple, and that such a speech would jeopard his position as a public man i might 



join in their opposition to the encroachments Samuel Adams, John Adams, John Hancock, 

from Great Britain from two motives, — a John Dickinson and others. In a letter to 

love of liberty and a love of peace." * * Arthur Lee, dated Philadelphia, Oct. 27, 

**But, sir, though these are my sentiments, 1741, Dickinson earnestly speaks of "the 

I nmst beg you will please to excuse me great struggle for the blessing of liberty — a, 

from enlarging on them in any publication." blessing that can alone render life worth 

— Ibid, Vol. ii, p. 1. holding," and adds, — "Give up the Butes, 

"Every move toward independence," says Mansfields, Norths, Bernards, and Hutchin- 

Wells, "was opposed with the whole power sons, whose falsehoods and misrepresenta- 

of Dickinson, who, in addition to his former tions have inflamed the people ; call not 

prejudice against the Northern members, their cause the cause of Great Britain; 

had taken a dislike to John Adams, owing to throw all errors and occasions of dissatis- 

a slighting remark contained in some letters factions on their guilty heads." — Am. Ar- 

wliich had been intercepted by the British, chives, Vol. i, 4th series, p. 947. A more 

and published." — Ibid, Vol. ii, p. 324. And determined opponent to the Tory party could 

yet, in a royal proclamation sent to General not be found, but he did not sympathize 

Gage in Feb., 1775, — a list of rebels was with the republicans. 

made, " with a blank commission to try and i"The discourse of Dickinson," says 

execute such of them as he could get hold Botta, " was heard with attention ; but tlie 

of," in which was included the names of current flowed irresistibly strong in a con- 



MONARCHY. 



329 



have been expected. Republicanism was no new subject in England, it 
was no new subject in the Colonies, and it cannot be denied that all the cir- 
cumstances connected with the earl}^ settlement and growth of the colonies 
were anything but favorable to monarch}'. ^ It was natural that monarchy 
should be favored by the recipients of royal patronage, and that the spirit 
of aristocracy, which is slow to yield to popular rights, should oppose re- 
publicanism. It seemed like dangerous presumption. Some minds are so 
constituted as not to be able to see the safet}^ of concessions to freedom, to 
be willing to recognize the merits of progress, — but seem to be incapable 
of detaching the future from the chronic frame-work of the past. Old in- 
stitutions become sacred, ancestral associations are captivating to the sen- 
timental mind. A titled gentry, a ro3'al pedigree, a brilliant court and 
inherited wealth ; liberal patrons of the arts and trades ; the creators and 
followers of fashion, and the leaders of pastime, — make an atmosphere of 
nominal grandeur, and once breathed by the child and enjoyed by the man, 
— it is not easy to reverse established preferences, or to see prudence in 
change. ^ King and Prince, the ro^^al family in its sacred reserves ; impos- 



trary direction, and fear acting upon many 
more powerfully than even their opinion, 
the majority pronounced in favor of inde- 
pendence." Dickinson was excluded. — Vol. 
I, p. 355. 

iln a letter to John Jay, dated Aug. 1, 
1786, Washington says, "What astonishing 
changes a few years are capable of produc- 
ing. I am told that even respectable char- 
acters speak of a monarchical form of gov- 
ernment without horror. From thinking 
proceeds speaking ; hence to acting is often 
but a single step. But how irrevocable and 
tremendous ! What a triumph for our ene- 
mies to verify their predictions ! " — Sparks, 
Vol. IX, p. 189. 

In a letter to Washington, dated Paris, 
May 2, 1788, Jefferson writes, — " I was 
much an enemy to monarchies before I 
came to Europe. I am ten thousand times 
more so, since I have seen what they are." 
— Jefferson Papers, Vol. ii, p. 375. 

In a letter to Benj. Kent, dated July 27, 
1776 — Samuel Adams writes, — "New gov- 
ernments are now erecting in the several 
American States under the authority of the 
people. Monarchy seems to be generally 
exploded ; and it is not a little surprising to 
me that the aristocratic spirit, which ap- 



peared to have taken deep root in some of 
them, now gives place to democracy."— Vol. 
II, p. 435. De Tocqueville, writing more 
than half a century later, says, — "I have 
visited the two nations in which the system 
of provincial liberty has been most perfectly 
established, and I have listened to the opin- 
ions of different parties in those countries. 
In America I met with men who secretly 
aspired to destroy the democratic institutions 
of the Union ; in England I found others 
who attacked the aristocracy openly ; but I 
know of no one who does not regard pro- 
vincial independence as a great benefit. In 
both countries I have heard a thousand dif- 
ferent causes assigned for the evils of the 
State ; but the local system was never men- 
tioned amongst them." — Vol. i, p. 77. This 
is high authority in favor of republicanism 
from abroad, — and yet, to-day, there are 
monarchists in America! Subjects, and 
principles, and parties, remain the same. 

2 In November, 1775, on the subject of 
treating with the Americans, in the House 
of Commons, Temple Luttrell said, — "Of 
thirty-three sovereigns of England, since 
William the Conqueror, thirteen only have 
ascended the throne by divine hereditary 
right ; the rest owe their royalty to the zeal 



330 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



ino- retinues and palatial splendors ; the formal exercise of the prerogatives 
of roj-alty, and the impressive dignity of state, — all conspii*e to invest mon- 
arch}" with an importance which awes the humble, and exalts the proud. 
Some men love to be counted a part of an imposing establishment, and if 
it can be found in the necessities of government, it is readily favored on 
personal considerations though with an avowed belief that it is demanded 
by the public good. Lord Brougham says, — " Monarchy is naturally ex- 
travagant — it is splendid and it is expensive — it is reckless of the general 
suffering from the burdens of taxation ; and it is prone to consider only 
the interests and enjoyments of courts and persons in authority." 

The discussion of this subject by Cromwell and his partisans had not 
been forgotten. ^ Their views had been transmitted and fostered, and a 
considerable portion of the British nation, at home and abroad, were settled 
in the belief that monarchy was no longer indispensable to their prosperity, 
though England was not permanently prepared for the higher responsibil- 
ities of a republic. ^ 



and vigor of the people in the maintenance 
of constitutional freedom. The will of the 
people of England, superseding an heredi- 
tary claim to succession, at the commence- 
ment of the 12th century, placed Henry the 
rirst on the throne of this kingdom, with 
condition that he would abrogate the vigor- 
ous laws made since the Norman invasion, 
restore the government as in the days of 
Edward the Confessor, and abolish all unjust 
and arbitrary taxes. King Stephen obtained 
the crown, and Henry the Second kept it, 
on the same express terms ; yet, sir, in the 
days of King John, it was judged expedient 
no longer to trust to mere oral declarations, 
which state chicane and sophistry had of 
late years occasionally explained away, but 
to compel that prince solemnly to register 
an affirmance of the ancient rights of the 
people in a formal charter ; and this neces- 
sary work was accomplished by the congress 
at Runemede, in the year 1215 ; an assembly 
which ought never to be spoken of by the 
representatives of the Commons of England 
but with profound veneration." — Pari. Deb. 
Vol. XVIII, p. 865. 

1 In a conference with his political leaders, 
Cromwell said, "that they should in concert 
investigate what government best suited 
England, as it was now their part to regu- 



late it. Ludlow, Vane, Hutchinson, Sidney, 
and Haslerigj loudly declared their feelings, 
rejecting all idea of a monarchy as con- 
demned by the Bible, by reason, and by ex- 
perience. The generals were more reserved. 
— (Guizot's Eng. Rev. pp. 375-6.) 

2 "Like Moses," said Hugh Peters to the 
generals, in a sermon to the remnant of the 
two houses, — " like Moses, you are destined 
to take the people out of the bondage of 
Egypt ; how will this be accomplished ? 
that is what has not been revealed ? " He 
put his hands before his eyes, laid his head 
on the cushion, and, rising thence suddenly, 
exclaimed, " Now I have it, by revelation ! 
Now I shall tell you ! This army must root 
up monarchy, not only here, but in France, 
and other kingdoms round about ; this is to 
bring you out of Egypt. This army is that 
corner-stone, cut out of the mountain, 
which must dash the powers of the earth to 
pieces." On the day of the execution of 
Charles the First, — the Commons passed an 
ordinance, declaring whomsoever should 
proclaim in his stead and as his successor, 
"Charles Stuart his son, commonly called 
Prince of Wales, or any other person what- 
soever, a traitor." On the 6th of February, 
1648, after a long discussion, the House of 
Lords was solemnly abolished — by a vote of 



MONARCHY. 331 

On the subject of monarch}', the Colonists were divided in view of Scrip- 
ture authority. On all subjects of government, they looked to the Bible 
for Divine guidance, not only as to the measures of government, but the 
form of government. The discussion was earnest, solemn and learned. 
The Bible was studied and reviewed with the nicest precision to settle the 
great question — whether God had directly or indirectly indicated His Will 
as to the best form of human government. The anti-monarchists were so 
extravagant in their denunciations of monarchy, derived from Scriptural 
authority, that the friends of monarchy were more bent to expose their 
errors of construction than to establish their own views of government. 
Monarchists could live without monarchy, though they protested against 
the exaggerations of its evils, and against the perversion of Scripture au- 
thorit}'. The English clergy, it ma}^ be said, were generallj- in favor of a 
monarch}' as they claimed for themselves the high privilege of being the 
special interpreters of God's Will as revealed in the Holy Bible, and as it 
is made known in Providence. As the established Church was a recognized 
element of the government, it was natural that its ministers should feel 
persuaded to seek evidence to prove that w^hat had been so long permitted 
by God should be continued to be classed as one of his Ordinances. Tories 
were monarchists — b}" sj'mpathy with the conservative rule of royalty, as 
they were unable to comprehend how reforms could be favored or tolerated 
without danger to the hereditary rights of the Crown. The Puritans were 
resigned to either form of government. That republicanism was their 
choice, there can be no doubt, but the}^ were not prepared to inaugurate 
revolution on such an issue. When Charles I. was beheaded they expressed 
their belief that the hand of God was in the promotion of Cromwell. When 
Cromwell was deposed they saw nothing but justice in the royal order for 
the arrest of the res-icides. ^ 



44 to 29. The next day, the 7th, they voted instantlyfromtheirplaees."— Vol. rv, p. 359. 

to abolish the office of a king. — (Guizot's ^An Address of the General Court of 

Eng. Rev., pp. 410, 436. Massachusetts, to Oliver Cromwell, Aug. 

In his chapter on " Monarchical and Regal 14, 1654, — is commenced in the following 

Republics, John Adams says, — "The language: " May it please your Highness, 

agrarian (the land) in America is divided It hath beene no smal comfort to us poor 

among the common people in every state, exiles, in these utmost ends of the earth 

in such a manner, that nineteen-twentieths (who sometimes felt and often feared the 

of the property would be in the hands of frownes of the mighty) to have had the ex- 

the commons, let them appoint who they perience of the good hand of God, in raising 

could for chief magistrate and senators, up such, whose endeavors have not beene 

The sovereignty then, in fact, as well as wantinge to our welfare : amongst whom, 

morality, must reside in the whole body of we have good cause to give your highness 

the people; and a hereditary king and no- the first place." — Hutchinson's diass., p. 

bility, who should not govern according to 523, Appendix. In Declaration of Rights 

public opinion, would infallibly be tumbled — made at the Sessions of the General 



332 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

That monarch}' was not considered the issue of the Revolution — ma}' be 
inferred from a remark of John Adams, in a letter to Lafa3xtte, as late as 
1782. " I am not, however," said he, " an enthusiast who wishes to over- 
turn empires and monarchies for the sake of introducing republican forms 
of government, and. therefore, I am no king-killer, king-hater, or king- 
despiser." ^ 

Although the subject was discussed with an apparent independence and 
thoroughness, 3-et it was eas}' to discover that the defenders of monarchy 
were not ignorant of the prejudices of the people against them, and that 
their theory if it amounted to an3^thing, proved too much. It is quite cer- 
tain that monarch}' did not emigrate from the old country to the uew ^ and 
that while there was a possibility of a reconciliation between the government 
and the Colonies, — no one was disposed to say too much to render it diflS- 
cult to retrace his steps if the people should refuse to adopt his conclusions. 
One of the most laborious writers, after exhausting his wisdom and learn- 
ing, in reply to the author of " Common Sense," was willing to dismiss the 
controversy with the remark that — " It might be well for the author of 
' Common Sense' — to follow the example of Acherley ^ in his future works, 
without stirring up an old dispute, of which our Fathers were long since 
wearied." Acherley was a good Democrat, and was therefore counted as 
good authority against a democrat in a controversy with a Tory. 

" Upon the whole matter," says Cato, * " I contend for this : That where 
a people are left to choose their own forms of government, as has been the 
case of all the world for some thousand years, there is no particular denun- 
ciation of God's displeasure against any form, whether monarchical or 
democratical, under which such a people may think their civil happiness 



Court, held at Boston the 10th of June, 2 «' Of the institutions of the Old World," 

1661, the following language appears under says Bancroft, " monarchy had no motive 

the head of " Our dutyes of allegience to to emigrate, and was present only by its 

our souevrigne lord the King." "We fur- shadow; in the proprietary governments, 

ther judge, that the warrant and letter from by the shadow of a shadow." — Vol. ii, p. 

the King's Majesty for the apprehending of 451. 

Colonell Whalley and Colonell Goffe, ought ^ Allibone gives a list of Roger Acherley' s 

to be diligently and faithfully executed by writings : Britannic Constitution ; or the 

the authority of this court." — Ibid., p. 531. Fundamental Form of Government in Bri- 

1" There are three monarchs," says Mr. tain, demonstrating the original Contract en^ 

Adams, "in Europe for whom I have as tered into by the King and people, Lond.^ 

much veneration as it is lawful for one man 1727. The Free Parliament, 1731, 8 vo. 

to have for another, — The King of France, Reasons for Uniformity in the State : being 

the Emperor of Germany, and the King of a Supplement to the Britannic Constitution, 

Prussia, are constant objects of my adraira- 1780, 8 vo. 

tion, for reasons of humanity, wisdom, and 4"Cato" — was Dr. Smith, of Philadelphia, 

beneficence, which need not be enlarged on." [See Am. Archives, — Vol, v.] 
—Vol. vn, p. 593. 



MONARCHY. 333 

best secured, and their duty to God best performed. Acherley shall again 
shelter me in this conclusion, which is the main purport of the present let- 
ter : ' Jesus Christ left all the potentates of this world and their subjects 
to decide their several rights by the temporal laws of each nation ; and 
never intimated what form Of government was most convenient or eligible.' 
This directly contradicts our author, ^ w^ho saj^s that the Almighty' has en- 
tered his protest against the particular form of monarchy."^ 

The friends of monarchy were too well informed respecting the public 
opinion in the colonies, not to see the imprudence of any but considerate 
language. Their views were opposed with boldness and bitterness by re- 
publicans, and with so much earnestness that no credit was given for an\^ 
avowed willingness to reconcile colonial differences. The colonies were 
denounced as enemies to the Crown from the first, and if the}' had the pru- 
dence to say nothing against monarch}^, they gave no evidence that they 
did not intend republicanism. They were accused of cant and insincerit}". 
That their language justified the belief that there was a latent hostility 
which only required an occasion for development, — there can be no reason- 
able doubt. This hostilitj^ was soon made manifest both in speech and 
acts, and it found a prompt response in a large majoritj^ of the people. 

The leading Democrats of America did not hesitate freely to express 
their opinions of monarchy, and more particularly when the}' saw but little 
chance for a reconciliation between the two countries. They took a com- 
mon sense view of tlie subject, and as they could find no evidence that 
Kings ruled by Divine right, they were conscious of no duty based upon 
such an assumption. The effusions of Hugh Peters had their advocates 
and admirers, and if monarchy had not been rooted up in the time of Crom- 
well, it was doubtless believed that it could be rooted up — in the land of 
Washington. 

In the early periods of the world, it was claimed, there were no kings, ^ 
and that there were no distinctions in birth recognized by nature. All men 
were born alike, and all with equal right to rule. Sex was the only dis- 
tinction of nature, and to be good or bad were the distinctions of heaven, "* 
All the inequalities of society were traced to the individual, and the theory 
of Locke, that every person could be the creator of his own character, was 



^ Author of " Common Sense." for the last century [1776] than any of the 

2 Am. Archives, 4th Series, Vol. t, p. 843. monarchical governments of Europe. An- 

3 "In the early ages of the world," says tiquity favors the same remark; for the 
the author of " Common Sense," " according quiet and rural lives of the first patriarchs 
to the Scripture chronology, there were no have a happy something in them, which van- 
kings ; the consequence of which was there ishes when we come to the history of Jew- 
were no wars ; it is the pride of kings which ish royalty." — Vol. i, p. 25.) 

throws mankind into confusion. Holland, ^Ibid. 
without a king, hath enjoyed more peace 



334 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the early belief and philosoph3^ At that time but little had been published 
to establish any theory respecting the different races of man, though the 
practical judgment was the same then as now. There is a judgment which 
we can always see in the practice of men, and there is another to be found 
in their opinions. It is the business of history and science so far as it is 
possible — to harmonize the two. It was asserted that monarchy was not 
onl}' a sin, but a failure. That it was a punishment for the Jews, and an 
imposition on posterit3\ It was held even to be blasphemous, and strong 
enough of itself to stand without God — if the Devil were not restrained. 
It was asserted that the " Palaces of Kings were built on the ruins of 
Paradise." The Crown had discovered no wisdom above the ordinary 
examples of life, and upon the whole it was thought that the Governors 
appointed by the King were not to be trusted. It w^as believed loy many 
that the Colonies had no enemy so dangerous as the King, and to manifest 
their contempt towards him, — his name and portrait were frequently treated 
with marked indignities. ^ Kings were viewed by some, indeed, as unscru- 
pulous and ambitious leaders, rather preferring the exciting and diverting 
scenes of war than the humanizing arts of peace. But all these worldly 
considerations had but little weight with the colonists compared to the 
sacred authority of the Bible. The Scriptures were searched with zeal and 
confidence, numerous passages were quoted to show that monarchy w^as ab- 
horred of God, — and that those who favored it could not be within the pale 
of his favor. ^ The examples of Gideon and Samuel were quoted by the 
friends of Republicanism, but not without counter interpretations from tory 
writers. 

On the supposition that the race of kings in England had an illustrious 
origin, it was contended that it was beneath the true dignity of man to 
recognize a custom, or tradition, — founded upon accident, or temporary 
convenience, and which was practically a method of proceeding no higher 
than mere luck, or lot. To choose by lot admits of no rule founded on 
judgment, and it can be regarded no better than gambling for the best 
interests of society. If b}- usurpation, — it would be a perpetual example to 
justify revolution, and there could be no peace. If by election, the choice 
would be made upon some principle, and a precedent established, but in no 



1 John Adams, in his Diaiy, (1777,) says, " Behold the man, who had It In his power 

,,„, V r u- • j.\ • ^ £ To make a kingdom tremble and adore, 

-"They have a fashion, m this town, of intoxicate with Folly. See his head 

reversing the picture of KingOeorge III., in placed where the meanest of his subjects tread. 

such famines as have it. One of these top- ^^i^e Lucifer, the giddy tyrant fell ; 

, . , • xi He lifts his heel to Heaven, but points his head to 

sy-turvy kings was hung up m the room j^pj, „ 

where v^ supped, and under it were written — Life and Works, Vol. ii, p. 434. 

these Unes, by Mr. Throop, as we are told: 2 judges, Ch. viii, 22, 23,-1. Samuel, 

VIII, 5, 6, 10-18 ; XII, 18, 19. 



MONARCHY. 



335 



way giving to the possession of power a hereditary element. At all events, 
the colonists saw no particular reason for honoring a government of such 
questionable origin, and they were slow to believe it to be their dut}^ to com- 
promise either their proper self respect, or their rights to equalit}', in mat- 
ters of government in violation of all constitutional guarantees. 

It is instructive to see how the same monarchy is regarded by the differ- 
ent parties of the same nation. The troubles or irregularities of a people 
instantly afford an index to their party proclivities. When an intelligent 
people suffer it is their nature to complain. Their complaints become the 
subject of inquiry and discussion, and every party proposes a remed}^ ac- 
cording to its own faith. The Tor}^ sees his opportunity to acquire power 
by becoming an alarmist. He magnifies disturbances into dangers. He 
knows no remedy but in control, and while he is forward to speak of the 
existence of difficulties to their fullest extent, he is careful to give no coun- 
sel affording relief that either implies S3^mpathy for suffering, or confidence 
in man. He believes in arbitrary power and coercion, will and command. 
The Democrat seeks remedies in the opposite direction. He confers with 
the people, and trusts them.^ Both may commit extremes. One by trust- 
ing too much, the other too little. 

During the French Revolution, embracing a period from 1789 to 1795 the 
people of all nations looked upon the events of the bloodj^ struggle with 
kindred and opposite emotions and opinions.^ The Tories everj- where 



iln debate on the " Treasonable Practices 
Bill," in the House of Lords, the Bishop of 
Rochester said, " he did not know what the 
mass of tlie people in any country had to do 
with the laws but to obey thera, with the re- 
serve of their undoubted right to petition 
against any particular law, as a grievance on 
a particular description of people. "^ParZ. 
Deh., Vol. xxxii, p. 258. The Earl of 
Lauderdale said, in reply, " If he had been 
in Turkey, and had heard such a declaration 
from the mouth of a Mufti, he should have 
attributed it to his ignorance, the despotic 
government of his country, or the bias of 
his religious opinions ; but to hear a British 
prelate, in a British house of parliament, 
declare that he did not know what the peo- 
ple had to do with the laws but to obey them, 
filled him with wonder and astonishment." 
— Pari. Deb., xxxii, p. 258. The Bishop 
in a subsequent debate explained his decla- 
ation, (P. Z>. p. 265) but with a tory spirit. 
The Earl of Abingdon, in a brief reply, said, 



"He would ask the reverend prelate, 
whether Fox ^o^mZi was not Vox Dei? He 
would prove it was ; and that God Almighty 
always inspired the people upon such occa- 
sions, and would do so still : he would prove 
this by authors as old as Methuselah. If 
the bill passed, resistance to it might be 
deemed rebellion, but if the compact settled 
by the Bill of Rights was broken, the gov- 
ernment might happen to be in a state of 
rebellion against the people. His lordship 
added, that the arguments he had heard 
that day, appeared to him to be calculated 
to enforce the exploded principle of passive 
obedience and non-resistance, and that all 
who maintained such doctrine, whether 
bishops or lay peers, were damned beyond 
all possibility of redemption, by revolution- 
ary principles." — Ibid., p. 270. 

2 An English writer says, — " Hostility to 
France might almost be called an ingredient 
in the principle of Whiggism ; favor toward 
it had always distinguished the Tories." 



33G HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

asserted their favorite theory of a strong government, in special legislation, 
— always forgetting that their appointed guardians of humanity have no ele- 
ments of character above those to be found in the people who are to be their 
subjects. The results of the American Revolution inspired new hopes in 
the breasts of the oppressed in all lands, and corresponding fears in their 
oppressors. Part}^ lines were deeply drawn between freedom and arbitrary 
power, and partisans in England and America became active in manifesting 
their s^^mpathies where they had no special interests to promote or defend. 
The cause of liberty was made an outward movement of the world, compre- 
hending all the means of advancement that were possible or impossible, and 
it was desperately opposed by the party of an inward policy, the party of 
centralization. One party w^as as wild and extravagant in its designs to 
extend tne area of freedom, as the other was in limiting it. One was led 
by an illimitable faith in the capacity of man for self-government, the other 
was swayed by real or pretended fears of ruin and anarchy, and by an absurd 
confidence in the few at the expense of the many. 

This was considered as a fearful crisis in England. It was viewed as a 
conflict between monarchy and republicanism. The slightest disturbance 
among the people, the confident assertions of popular leaders were looked 
upon b}^ the Tories with alarm. Thej^ erected their sensitive and variable 
standard of loyalty, — and Democrats were placed under the ban of roj^al 
proclamations and new sedition laws.^ The King was assaulted in his car- 
riage and treated with disrespect by a turbulent populace. Because one man 
was capable of outrage, all men were counted as capable of rebellion. 
Because there were revolutionary troubles in France, and republicanism in 
America, there could be no constitutional government in England. The 



Hist, of Parties, Vol. II, p. 408. The prej- ministerial measures as oil this occasion; 

udices of the English against the French is the interest of the public seemed so deeply 

one thing. This is a subject of race. When at stake, that individuals not only of the 

Prance is democratic, — she has the sympa- decent, but of the most vulgar professions, 

thy of democrats everywhere, in all nations, gave up a considerable portion of their time 

and without regard to race. and occupations in attending to the numer- 

1 Nov. 23, 1795, Numerous Petitions were ous meetings that were called in every part 

presented to the House of Commons against of the kingdom, to the professed intent of 

the Treason and Sedition bills. Of these, counteracting this attempt of the ministry, 

the Annual Register (1796) says, — " Th6 The Whig club, comprising not a few indi- 

public was no less occupied than parhament viduals of the first rank and property in the 

itself, in the discussion of the two bills, kingdom, led the way in this celebrated 

Clubs and Associations were formed every- opposition. 

where for the purpose of opposing therti by "The corresponding Society's numerous 

every method not liable to the cognizance members, together with an immense multi- 

of the law. Never had there appeared, in tude of their adherents and well-wishers, 

the memory of the oldest man, so firm and assembled on the 12th of November, in the 

decided a plurality of adversaries to the fields near Copenhagen House. Here they 



MONARCHY. 



337 



Whigs arraigned a tory partisan for a libel upon Parliament,^ and a tory 
Parliament enacted special laws to protect the kingdom against imaginary 
schemes of the Whigs. The Whigs saw no incompatibility between govern- 



solemnly denied all intentions of raising 
commotions, and disproved the charge 
brought against them, by ministry, of being 
concerned in the outrages committed 
against the king. They framed three peti- 
tions, one to the King, and the two others 
to the Lords and Commons ; stating them 
to be the unanimous petitions of nearly 
400,000 British subjects, met together to 
communicate their sentiments, and express 
them freely, as authorized to do by the Bill 
of Rights, on the measures of ministry, 
which tended to invade the liberties invest- 
ed in them by the constitution. They sup- 
plicated, therefore, the King to exert his 
royal authority, in the preservation of his 
people's rights, directly threatened by the 
two bills brought forward by his ministers ; 
and they requested the two Houses to inter, 
fere in behalf of the public, against the 
ministerial attempt to procure their passing. 
The livery of London, the electors of West- 
minster, and the freeholders of Middlesex, 
agreed to remonstrances and petitions of the 
like nature, and were followed by a number 
of counties, and almost every town of note 
in the kingdom." 

1 In the House of Commons, Nov. 23, 
1795, Mr. Sturt presented a petition signed 
by 12,113 persons, purporting to be the pe- 
tition of the London Corresponding Society 
against the treason and sedition bills, justi- 
fied that Society from the aspersions thrown 
out against them and their writings ; and to 
prove that things at least as exceptionable 
had appeared from the partisans of the min- 
istry, he read to the House several passages 
from a pamphlet entitled, ' ' Thoughts on the 
English Government," written by John 
Reeves, the framer and president of the As- 
sociation against Republicans and Levellers, 
and among others the following: 

" With the exception of the advice and 
consent of the two Houses of Parliament, 
and the interposition of juries, the govern- 
ment, and the administration of it in all- i^ 

22 



parts, may be said to rest wholly and solely 
on the king, and those appointed by him. 
Those two adjuncts of parliament and juries 
are subsidiary and occasional : but the king's 
power is a substantive one, always visible 
and active. By his ofl&cers, and in his name, 
everything is transacted that relates to the 
peace of the realm and the protection of the 
subject. The subject feels this, and acknowl- 
edges with thankfulness a superintending 
sovereignty, which alone is congenial to the 
sentiments and temper of Englishmen. In 
fine, the government of England is a mon- 
archy; the monarchy is the ancient stock 
from which we have sprung these goodly 
branches of the legislature, the Lords and 
Commons, that at the same time give orna- 
ment to the tree, and afford shelter to those 
who seek protection under it. But these 
are still only branches, and derive their ori- 
gin and their nutriment from their common 
parent; they may be lopped off, and the 
tree is a tree still; shorn, indeed, of its 
honours, but not like them, cast into tiic fire. 
The kingly government may go on in- all its 
functions, without Lords or Commons, it 
has heretofore done so for years together, 
and in our times it does so during every re- 
cess of parliament; but without the king, 
his parliament is no more. The king, there- 
fore, alone it is who necessarily subsists 
without change or diminution; and from 
him alone we unceasingly derive the pro- 
tection of law and* government..'" Mr. Sturt 
then moved, that "the House do order the 
attorney-general" to prosecute the author of 
the said pamphlet." 

The Chancellor of Exchequer (Wm. Pitt, 
the junior,) thought, instead of recom- 
mending the attorney-general to prosecute, 
the House should vindicate its privileges by 
acts of its own. However, he was at present 
for passing to the order of the day." 

Charles James Fox considered the objec- 
tion which had been started by the chancel- 
lor oft the exchequer; the strangest he had 



338 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



ment and freedom. Tlie^^ could be time to the one and save the other. 
The tories looked for safet}^ in "party vigor beyond the law," in the employ- 
ment of spies and informers, and in the discovery of "■ new treasons." ^ 
The one saw treason in freedom, the other in tyranny. The one looked for 
justice in the form of government without principle, the other in its consti- 
tutional administration according to principle. The extremes of part}^ were 
fully illustrated. To believe both — it was a struggle between "king-kill- 
ers"^ and parliament killers, and between the two, monarchy was in danger 
of extirpation, each discovering in the other only the means of its death. 
By one party the monarchy was to be ended by the removal of the king, 
and by the other by the removal of the parliament. The fundamental dif- 



ever heard." * * "How differently did 
ministers feel on the code of liberty, and on 
the code of despotism ! The Corresponding 
Societies came forward with spirit in the 
cause of parliamentary reform, and a few 
paltry libels were published; the Habeas 
Corpus was immediately suspended, indict- 
ments for high treason were draw^n up, new 
ti'easons enacted, and the bill of rights re- 
pealed. A more atrocious libel than any 
that had been published liad appeared from 
the pen of a ministerial hireling against the 
House of Commons, and the motion which 
was made was the orders of the day." 
Charles Grey, afterwards Earl Grey, said — 
*' The author of this libel Avas entitled to 
candor and indulgence. It was only an his- 
torical fact for this discussion of antiquaries. 
Had it been stated, however, that democracy 
was the root, and monarchy only an excres- 
cence, what would the Right Hon. gentleman 
have said? Would he not have pronounced 
it treason? Should we not have heard it 
was copying the French?" — Pa7'l. Deb., 
Vol. XXXII, p. C14. 

1 In the House of Commons, in the debate 
on "the Seditious Meetings Bill," Sheridait 
said, "If any orator, in the heat of his ar- 
gument, should use a seditious word, or one 
which the magistrates construed to be so, 
and not immediately desist when desired so 
to do, the riot act was to be read, and fol- 
lowed up by military execution. Reformers 
in general were not very ready to attend to 
a gentle hint, and here there was but one 
Alternative ; for if the magistrate did not 



find him passive and obedient, when setting 
him to rights, he was to knock him down. 
Besides, how many magistrates were to be 
employed to disperse a large assembly? He 
supposed they were to be procured by ad- 
vertisement, and we might shortly expect 
to read in the public papers, "Wanted an 
immense number of magistrates, to prevent 
the dissemination of seditious doctrines, and 
set the people to rights." — Pari. Deb., Vol. 
XXXII, p. 296. 

2 Mr. Canning was of opinion, that there 
was an intimate connection between the 
proceedings at Copenhagen House, and the 
disgraceful outrage which followed. An 
attempt had been made against the King, 
and a hand-bill was circulated on the prac- 
tice of " King-Killing." — P. D., Vol. xxxii, 
p. 301. " There might, indeed," said Sher- 
idan, " be hand-bills written and distributed, 
and most probably were, as others had been 
before them, by spies and informers. Ho 
was warranted in saying this, for practices 
of this sort had been proved. Ministers had 
propagated such libels frequently through 
the medium of their scandalous and dis- 
graceful tools." Mr. Grey said, "he did 
not believe that the insult to his majesty 
originated at Copenhagen House. It was 
said that the doctrine of King-Killing was 
preached there. He knew nothing of that." 
Mr. Duncombe said, "he wished to see the 
kingly part of the constitution protected, 
but there was another part of it that 
deserved no less attention, namely, the 
democratical." — P. D., Vol. xxxii, p. 303. 



REPUBLICANISM. 339 

ference between the two was, — that while truth was vital to the strength 
and life of the one, error was equally important to the other. 

Thus the monarchy of England has been defended as a system of despot- 
ism and by a party vote. The extreme question was distinctly propounded 
and discussed by John Reeves, and though his opinions were not openly 
accepted they were virtually endorsed b}^ a tory parliament. The Sedition 
and Treason bills were passed during the same session and bj^ large major- 
ities. The debates on these questions are particularly alluded to in this 
connection because they forcibly illustrate the extremes of party under a 
constitutional government even when not threatened by revolution. The 
reader will find democracy ably defended, under a monarchy, in the speeches 
of Chas. James Fox, Sheridan, Erskine, Grey, Whitebread and others, in 
the Commons ; and of the Dukes of Bedford and Leeds, the Earls of Laud- 
erdale and Abingdon, and others — in the House of Lords. Of course, the 
claims of monarchy cannot be well discussed without a comparison with 
republicanism. 

REPUBLICANISM. 

The word republic — is from the Latin, res, and publica, and in its true 
definition should be used to embrace not only the public affairs of a country 
but whatever contributes to the public good, truly interprets the public voice, 
or faithfully executes the public will. This form of government is of dem- 
ocratic origin. Its provisions enable the people to act. As monarchy is 
the rule of a single person, so a republic is the rule of more than one. 
The word is not significant of principle except as to universality of inter- 
est and number, — and the principle is to be found in that definition which 
comprehends democracy in its highest sense. A commonwealth, in name, 
may be a tyranny in practice, but it would be false to its professed stand- 
ard, — the common-weal. A monarch}^, limited by a constitution, may be 
denominated a republic, and a republic may be found in an oligarch}^, an 
aristocracy, or a democracy. It has its range on the scale of number, 
from one to the few, an oligarchy ; from the few to the man}^, or all, — a 
democracy ; and on the scale of quality, the best, an aristocracy.^ 

It is a word of indefinite meaning, and it has been made so by its abuse, 
or misapplication.^ And yet, if used with strict reference to its etymology 

^ Polyhius says, — "All aristocracies and ^BurJce says, — "If he had any merit at 

democracies terminate at last in Monarchy." all, it was that of having read industriously 

This is in contradiction to the universality and attentively : and of course the origin 

of God's Providence. Great and ultimate and composition of republics had not 

truths are only to be found in a diverging escaped him. It was observed that all dogs 

progress, — from the one to the many, from went by the same name, though no species 

the nation to the universe. of animal contained a greater diversity. 

Thus it might be said of republics. Those 



340 HISTORY OF DEMOCKACY. 

and implied meaning, — there cannot be a republic without a democracy. 
As a republic is the frame work upon which a democracy must act, sO 
democracy represents the principle without which a republic is a mere mock- 
ery. The one is the body with its members, the other is the soul which 
gives life to function, and will to mind. When numbers and general inter- 
ests are referred to, as when we use the word republic, we commit ourselves 
to the full definition in its highest sense, and it is a practical recognition 
of the principle which comprehends democracy, — the general welfare of the 
people. Despotism, oligarch}^, aristocrac}^, t3'ranny, are terms representing 
the abuse of power without regard to form of government. 

A nation is a combined system of public action, where the general good 
is paramount to special interests, and, like other systems, is dependent 
upon its own peculiar means of self-protection and outward advancement. 
As it is made up of multitudes of intelligent beings, of varj ing races, 
grades, and conditions of men, the mode of practical development and 
co-operation often becomes complicated, and duty a difficult problem. 
The subdivisions of society are seen to be an obvious necessit3^ I" ^^ 
other way can human agency be made available ; and hence the variety of 
modifications to be found under different and under the same forms of gov- 
ernment. Self-government is the highest form. "It was to obtain and 
preserve this inestimable blessing that the good and great have struggled 
with every form of opposition in every age of the world." ^ Its verj-^ terms 
assert the highest duty and responsibility. They not only imply the 
necessity of self-knowledge and a capacity of self-control, but a compre- 
hensive knowledge of wants and the best means of suppljing them. It 
claims the highest condition of aggregated ability, and the sources of con- 
trol in all its parts, separately and together. Every man, family, town, 
county, state, and section becomes a part. Ever}^ class, whether as a race 



of Holland, Venice, Genoa, etc., differ narrow limits of space and population, and 

widely in their governments, yet they were is perhaps not practicable beyond the extent 

such as embassadors might be sent to ; for of a New England township. The first 

they were not regicidal republics, nor repub- shade from this pure element, which, like 

lies of confraternity with the seditious and pure vital air, cannot sustain life of itself, 

disaffected in every state." — Pari. Deb.j would be where the powers of the govern- 

VoL. XXX, p. 59. ment, being divided, should be exercised 

1 Jefferson defines a republic to be strictly each by representatives chosen by the citi- 

" a government by its citizens in mass, act- zens, either pro hoc vice, or for such short 

ing directly and personally, according to terms as should render secure the duty of 

rules established by the majority ; and that expressing the will of their constituents, 

every other government is more or less re- This I should consider as the nearest ap- 

publican, in proportion as it has in its com- proach to a pure republic which is practica- 

position, more or less of this ingredient of ble, on a large scale of country or popula- 

the direct action of its citizens. Such a tion." — Tucker's Jefferson, Vol. ii, p. 371. 
government is evidently restrained to very 2 Peter Cooper. 



REPUBLICANISM. 341 

or representing a particular cause, or interest, becomes a part ; and it is to 
the conflicts of these parts that we are to look for the developments of prin- 
ciple and for the means of adjusting differences. It is the legitimate func- 
tion of each part first to assert itself, itself only, and then to pass to the 
next and higher process of action and duty — that of combination, or union 
of parts. Upon this principle the republic is based ; and, as its great power 
and strength come from its subdivisions of territory, population, interests, 
and duties, the nicest s^^stem of adjustment becomes of vital importance. 
Neglect of any part to itself, or of any parts to one another ; an^^ permitted 
inequality, any injustice whatever, whether directly designed or indirectly 
permitted, would not only introduce elements of discord and cause positive 
derangement, but render national unity utterly impossible. " As in organic 
beings," says Niebuhr, " the most perfect life is that which animates the 
greatest variety of members, so, among states, that is the most perfect in 
which a number of institutions, originallj^ distinct, being organized each 
after its kind into centres of national life, form a complete whole." 

This subject is entitled to serious consideration. Republicanism, to be 
sustained, must be thoroughly understood. It is the only system of gov- 
ernment in which the power of control and the consent of the governed, are 
alike based upon knowledge. Ignorant, or passive consent may be as fatal 
to constitutional authorit}^ as its wilful perversion. Republican government 
is self-existent only on the principle of mutuality, — embracing discernment 
of system and sense of dut}^, — both in the magistrate and in the citizen. 

Monarchy is self-reliant, and it does not wholly depend upon the condi- 
tion of its subjects for success. Its reality is the will of one. If it defers 
to others, it is concession, or to ask for counsel and aid. Its want of self- 
confidence is often its greatest wisdom. Republicanism is a system of self- 
government created b}^ the people with a conscious knowledge of its wants 
and provisions, its designs and ends. Its reality is practice, and its wisdom 
is derived from a discriminating experience. Its want of self-confidence 
implies either ignorance or folly. 

Ancient republics failed, not because the principles of democracy lost 
their vitality and ceased to exist, but because society was in a consolidated 
condition. They died from lack of principle, or of congestion. They 
were theories without the means of practice, systems without the means of 
action. Power cannot be exercised without subdivision of means. The 
mind has its various faculties, and each faculty has its means of manifesta- 
tion, and all are governed by unalterable laws of unit3^ The human body 
has its numerous members,^ and each member its special function, but 



1 This truth cannot be too much elab- articulations or joinings, one hundred carti- 
orated. The human body consists of— two lages and ligaments, four hundred muscles 
hundred and forty bones, nine kinds of and tendons ; one hundred nerves ; besides 



342 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

without completeness of parts and independence of function — the animal 
economy would cease. So of a republic, — made up of separate states. 
Each state must have a distinct organization and growth, a defined sphere 
of action, and within that sphere enjoy all the prerogatives of sovereignty 
necessary to its independence as a state. Without such independence a state 
would not be prepared to make a part of a republic.^ It would be no part. 
A nominal part of a whole is an absurdity. A perfect whole cannot be 
made of incomplete parts. 

The government of Mexico is called a republic, — but it is a mere nominal 
distinction, for whatever form of government they have adopted in that 
unfortunate country, — the government itself has been practically the same. 
The progressive and conservative growth of France, has touched the two 
extremes in the scale of civilization, and this process will continue for 
generations to come. France is not yet prepared to become a republic 
permanentl3\ Its government is too much centred in Paris. Until France 
divides her territory, and gives and secures sectional interests, and sectional 
independence — she will not have a foundation upon which to base a repub- 
lic. England, after the Heptarch}^, was not in a condition to be a republic. 
The power of a people must be placed under conditions of intelligence 
before it can be combined for federal action. When Scotland, Ireland and 
Wales were united with England, the preliminary formation necessary 
to a republic, was commenced, and when the people of these sections, and 
in the British Colonies, are in an equal condition with that of England, and 
stand upon a common level as to education, knowledge, dignity, industry 
and law — then Great Britain may become a republic. 

That the colonists were democrats, even under a monarchy, and that 
they clearl}' saw at an early period that the republican form of government 
was the only one that would give life and actuality to democratic principles, 
there can be no doubt. The provisions of their charters, their laws and 
institutions, their colonial boundaries and organizations, their declared 
views of government, and even their jealousies and prejudices, — all dis- 



blood, arteries, veins, glands, stomach, Adams says, — " You have my hearty con- 
intestines, lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, lym- currence ; and I believe we are well enough 
phatics, lacteals, and three skins, the acquainted with each other's ideas, to 
epidermis, the rete mucossura, and the true understand what we respectively mean when 
skin, beneath which is the tela cellulosa, we "use the word with approbation." — Life 
distributed through the system and sur- of Samuel Adams, Vol. hi, p. 310. In 
rounding every muscle and fibre, every another letter to John Adams, he says, — 
artery, vein, nerve, and lymphatic. " When this millenium shall commence, if 
1 In a letter to Samuel Adams, Nov. 20, there shall be any need of civil government, 
1790, John Adams says, — "It is a fixed indulge me in the fancy that it will be in the 
principle that all good government is, and republican form, or something better." — 
must be, republican." In reply, Samuel Ihid^ Vol. hi, p. 302. 



REPUBLICANISM. 343 

covered not only a republican spirit, but a democratic practice. There was 
no serious obstacle interposed either by the Crown or the Parliament to 
check such views or such a course. So long as royalty was indulged as a 
patron, and commerce was too small to yield a revenue, — there was no 
conflict of prerogatives, no collision of schemes. They were loyal to the 
king, and they had been taught to love their country. They were proud 
of its strength and achievements, and were ever read}^ to contribute to its 
glor3\ They had helped to fight its battles, and they claimed to be a part 
of the British Army and Nav3\ Still, it cannot be doubted, that a large 
majority of the colonists were republicans. Why should it be otherwise? 
They had long been permitted to administer the government on republican 
principles, and this was demanded by their condition. A few prominent 
men, mostly officials, were bold to denounce republicanism as the great 
source of all mischief, the greatest of sins, as rank disloyalty and treason, — 
but they were powerless to influence the mass of the people. The}' saw the 
source of power only in their commissions from the hands of royalt}^ ; they 
could understand no influence but that which was based upon titles and 
distinctions, and they could understand no government except on the prin- 
ciple of coercion. The}' had been blinded b}^ the delusive error, which has 
so long enfeebled humanity, and blackened the pages of histor}-, — that 
national glory is onl}' associated with military rule. 

The people, however, had long enjo^^ed a democratic government, repub- 
lican in form, and it was a species of revolution to propose to interfere 
either with the principle, or the means of its manifestation. The}' were 
content to be let alone, and they had no desire to disturb the British mon- 
archy, which, so far as they were concerned, had always permitted a repub- 
lican form of government. Its establishment had been authorized by the 
British Constitution. Republicanism in America had not been a party 
question. Democracy discovered no factious party spirit in asserting its 
rights. Its purposes were those of imperative duty, its claims were 
scrupulously measured, and deferentially loyal. England saw no safety 
but in a monarchy, America saw no peace but in a republic. The power 
of royalty combined with a Tory parliament to separate and destroy what 
had been ordained by Providence to be strengthened and forever united. 
Each colony had organized its own government, enacted its own laws, and 
formed its own character. What had been necessary in perfecting the 
parts now became a question involving the whole. ^ Combination for 
defence had become a necessity, — not for the compromise of rights, but for 
the division of duties. Not for creating a rival power, but for excluding 



1 This separate independence of the colo- extending the Mutiny Bill to America, in 
nies was a fact admitted at an early period, the Commons, Mr. Robert Viner said, — " I 
In 1754, in the debate on the question of must tliink, that as our colonies are inde- 



3i4 HISTORr OF DEMOCRACY. 

rivalry from equal and independent states that were to be united for 
specific purposes. Not for aiding a monarchy, but to establish a republic. 

The American people were prepared for such a crisis. They were intel- 
ligent, prudent, brave and well informed. They had had five generations of 
experience, and they had not been indifferent to the teachings of history. 
They had done every thing to make a republic easy, and monarchy had 
done nothing to render it difficult. The people were chiefly democrats, 
and republicanism was their only mode of action. No other mode was 
possible in view of public opinion, no other mode was efficient in view of 
the public wants. The colonists deplored rebellion, but they did not fear 
it. They abhorred disloyalt}', — but the}^ saw no good reason wh}^ a king 
should be exempted from its penalties, or a parliament from its stigma. 

Thus the American republic had its origin in the condition of things on 
the American Continent, in the condition of the American people, in their 
judgment and intelligence, in their institutions and character, in their rights 
and wants as citizens and men, in their claims and duties as Christians 
and Americans, in their colonial organizations and state independence, and 
not in an)' preconceived theory of man or of party. The republic was a 
representative government, both in principle and of trust. Of principle 
inherent in democracy, and of trust — in faithfulness to delegated authorit)^ 
It was a representative republic in the sense embracing the capacity to 
discern and comprehend the rights and needs of a free people, and the 
requisite will and power to defend and supply them. The voice of 
democracy had its home in every colony, and every colon}-, in assuming 
the weighty responsibilities of state, — as distinctly asserted its reserved 
prerogatives as it declared the limits of its delegated trusts. This was 
the republicanism of the American revolution of 1776. 

POLITICAL PERIODS OF ENGLAND, PRECEDING THE AMERICAN 

REVOLUTION. 

The teachings of history are often limited within periods too brief to be 
profitable. A generation, or a century is marked to be studied merely 
because it is a round period of time convenient to be written, or spoken, — 
but with no particular reference to men, or society. Progress cannot be 
seen in short intervals, nor can its philosoph}^ be comprehended unless 
events are studied in their natural or causative connections. To a certain 
extent this is necessary, that the motives of public men, who have closed 



pendent of one another, and consequently to be passed by the British legislature, for 

cannot agree upon any general law for the the regulation of their troops, when acting 

regulation of an army that is to be raised either by themselves, or in conjunction with 

by all of them together: I say, I must for the British troops, etc., etc." — Pari. Deb., 

this reason think, that some new law ought Vol. xv, p. 379. 



POLITICAL PERIODS OF ENGLAND. 345 

their career of dutj-, maj^ be explained by themselves, or by their friends. 
Individuals, who have taken a part in the affairs of a nation have imputed 
motives to explain, and expressed opinions to defend — which time alone can 
develop, and which need reflective study and revision. This must be done 
by themselves to be done correctl}', when retired from active dut}', or by 
friends whose confidence they have commanded, or whose sj^mpathies they 
have enjoj-ed. 

With parties, such a course is still more important. Every party claims 
to have a principle and a policy, and these are constantly subjected either to 
the misapprehensions of honest men, or to misrepresentations of dishonest 
opponents. Men who seek or accept public office, virtually consent to a 
public record, and that record belongs to the world. It is a record of 
23recedent to be avoided, or of example to be followed. The experience of 
the past is a continuous legacy to the present, and its legitimate use secures 
the requisite safeguards for the future. Nations are not to be studied 
separately, but together. There is a society of nations, as well as of men, 
and its customs and laws indicate the civilization of the world. Wise leg- 
islation is a process of cause and effect when viewed in its results upon 
societ}^, and when advanced by comprehensive diplomac}", it embraces the 
the welfare of the great family of man to be found in the grand subdivisions 
of nationality. Democracy represents a principle of duty, of condition, 
and when realized it becomes a privilcgs, a visible blessing. These are 
truths as much in Austria, Prussia, Spain and Russia, as in America. 
Because democracy does not prevail every where alike, it is not safe to 
infer its absence, or to deny its existence. Like Christianity, it is independ- 
ent of conditions. Its existence does not depend upon roj^alt}-, nor upon 
the faith of skeptics. What democracy was in England two hundred 3'ears 
ago, is democracy in America to-da}'. The lessons of the past should 
serve to establish principles of duty in the present. It is not to be found 
only here or only there, but everj^where. It is the monarch's secret of suc- 
cess, the subject's source of prosperity. It is the rich man's guide, the 
poor man's guardian. Without democracy the statesman fails in his 
measures, and the government in its ends. It appeals to the noblest senti- 
ments of the soul, and unites a Christian temper with the sternest spirit of 
patriotic dut3\ A kingdom cannot prosper without it, and without it a 
republic is impossible. It has been the glory of England, it is to be the 
glory of America. It is to be the glory of the world. 

To have a clear and distinct view of the American Revolution, as an event 
of progress, it cannot be otherwise than profitable to take a brief survey 
of the times from the Commonwealth of Cromwell to the reign of George 
III. The Commonwealth of Cromwell to the reign of George III., and a 
discriminating view of the character of the sovereigns of England during 
that period, particularly of George the Third, who favored the war against 



346 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the American Colonies, form important chapters in histor}- . If the Colonies 
were clearl}^ right in their rebellion, England was clearly wrong in the war. 
If the Colonies were true to the British Constitution, the king and his 
ministers, and the majority of Parliament were unjust and disloyal. Who 
were the offenders, and what was the measure of their capacity, their 
knowledge, their integrity, their patriotism, — or the measure of their igno- 
rance, pride, incapacit}^, selfishness, or stupidity? Did the king mislead? 
What were his motives, and what his antecedents and character? Were 
his ministers incapable or dishonest? What bias, or circumstances led 
them to be so ? Did Parliament in its party zeal influence the Crown and 
its advisers to a policy so fatal to the great interests of the nation, so mor- 
tifjing to its pride? These are questions to be asked and answered by 
the student of history if he desires full}^ to comprehend the mistakes, either 
of men or of party, or the near or remote causes of the American Revolu- 
tion. He would naturally desire to know whether an able and accomplished 
king, or statesman, was a safer head to a government, than an ignorant 
man without experience or capacit3\ Or, whether a ruler of doubtful 
integrit}' is more likely to be loyal, than an honest man. No one would 
be surprised to hear a plain democratic republican ask, even in these days, 
"Who was George the Third, who had the will, but not the power, to 
enslave America ? Who were his ancestors, and what their origin, training, 
and education, that their descendants should presume to claim for the 
Crown a power of control on the Continent of America, not recognized by 
the British Constitution ? What sprig of roj^alty was it, saved by the merest 
accident, or chance freak of pride or passion, or produced by debauchery, 
or by the stupidity of part}-, — that commenced the lineage that now honors 
the throne of England?" The reader is amply compensated by turning 
to the pages of history to find answers to these questions. 

Such questions cannot always be answered b}^ language, but by events. 
They require to be studied. Special information detailed by the historian 
affords only the materials for the student, and these materials are to be 
classified in due order of significance that principles may be discovered. 
There can be no answer to such questions but in the master}^ of knowledge 
which comprehends not only the brief dynasties of men, but the long strug- 
gles of nations, the undeviating rule of Providence. One man cannot 
answer for another. Each must answer for himself. No one can answer 
for himself, even, unless he is able to discern the near and distant signif- 
icance of events ; to understand the motives and passions of men in their 
individual as well as in their conventional relations. As self-knowledge is 
the first, so a knowledge of society may be defined as the second, duty of 
man. The lives of men are divided, by biographers, into periods as to 
time, and subdivided in application as to duty. Each period has its lessons, 
and each period has its duties, and as is the observance of the former, and 



COMMONWEALTH OF CROMWELL. 347 

the application of the latter, — so is the aggregate of the character of the 
man. From the general result — his influence is estimated upon society 
and the world. So of nations. They have experience, an experience which 
is conventional. They have then- periods of youth, manhood and old age ; 
their periods of folly and wisdom, of error and shame, of strength and 
weakness, of success and failure. To understand these periods, and to 
connect them, it is necessary to comprehend their meaning as taught by the 
philosophy of cause and effect. Without faith in progress, existence is 
nothing. Without confidence in duty, man is a being without motive, and 
nations can have no mission. It follows then, that life is to be studied for 
the benefit of life, and whether men have their wa}', or are baflled in their 
purposes, it is alike their duty to turn with reverence upon the teachings of 
the past, that its errors may be avoided and the future improved. Men 
can accomplish nothing unless thej^ are established in the belief of some- 
thing, and whatever is their standard of belief, their knowledge of principles, 
and then- faithful application of them to dut}-, so will be the practical results 
of their lives and labors. Men cannot believe in progress until they are 
able to see it, and it is quite certain that they cannot understand it unless 
the^^ confidently mark the teachings of history upon the extended scale of 
Providence, in time, which is but an infinitesimal part of the incomprehen- 
sible scale of eternity. 

It has been seen that the experience of England has been embodied in 
her Constitution. This makes up her chapter of political wisdom. On the 
one hand is to be seen, truth, dut}^ and success ; and on the other, error, 
failure and disgrace. But in looking to the general results, whether of suc- 
cess to the nation, or of progress to the world, it will be clearl}- seen how 
insignificant is the wisdom of man, when compared to the over ruling 
Providence of God. Men of patriotism have been immortalized b}^ their 
noble thoughts and deeds, while others have been denounced for their 
infamy by each succeeding generation, though their perfidy like that of 
Judas has been made a subordinating instrument to bless the world. 
Joseph was sold by his brethren, from evil motives, but God made him an 
instrument of great good, though sold as a slave. He stands as an endur- 
ing example of duty ; his brethren of crime. This view does not warrant 
the inference that man's accountability is lessened, because his crimes are 
made to advance the glory of God, but rather increased, by the knowledge 
that success and happiness can only be secured by the strict observance of 
duty. The rock is no less a danger — because its existence aflTords a founda- 
tion for a beacon light — to turn mariners from destruction. Its elements 
of danger are converted into means of safety, 

THE COMMONWEALTH OF CROMWELL. 
The reign of Charles the First, and the Commonwealth of Cromwell, have 



348 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

been briefl}' noticed in a previous chapter. From this period let the reader 
stud}' the great events of England to the eighteenth and nineteenth centu- 
ries^ — and although this work can do but little more than indicate an 
imperfect method of anal3'sis, he ma}- be enabled to increase the value of 
its hints and suggestions by his own researches and reflections. 

When Cromwell became a revolutionist he was more influenced b}^ his 
faith in his ability to correct the errors of monarch}^, than b}' any knowledge 
which he possessed of means to establish a democratic republican govern- 
ment. The republican theorj' to him, as to all others, doubtless was beau- 
tiful, because it was democratic. This great fact inspired him with courage 
to attempt an experiment, which if it needed any apolog}' would find it in 
his motives to extend freedom, rather than in his knowledge either of him- 
self, or of agents to be emplo3'ed, to discover means to perpetuate and ad- 
minister the government. " He had no friends but his agents," is a remark 
of Guizot. He was not to be influenced by " flesh and blood," ^ when he felt 
himself impelled b}^ the voice of God. His position was fully understood by 
Lord Capell who was ready to make an}' sacrifice to serve the king. On the 
15th of Januar}', 1G49, he wrote to Cromwell, from his cell in the Tower — 
with the enthusiasm of a high-minded gentleman, conjuring him to save the 
King. The following passage is full of meaning : "But my present con- 
dition refuseth me the abilit}' of anything else but that of invocating the 
favor of God for him, and making m}' addresses to 3'ou, whom I take to be 
the figure that gives the denomination to the sequence of a great many 
ciphers that foil oiv you." Self-confidence is limited by individual capacit}-, 
and when Cromwell assumed the high oflSce of Protector, — he permitted 
himself to be placed in a position of dependence upon others, when he was 
surrounded by men, and nations, not in harmon}- with himself, as to knowledge 
and sympath}'.'-^ When he realized the crushing realities of government, and 
the delusive difficulties of controlling the will of others as he controlled 
his own ; when his self-reliance was undermined b}^ the deceptive weak- 
nesses of his own aims, and by the servilit}' of ignorant and irresponsible 
dependents, — he was led to conclude that the theory of republicanism was 



1 After Cromwell had taken possession meddler; but Oliver, the head of a party, 
of the Parliament house, and closed it he and consequently, to a great extent, the 
returned to Whitehall, where he found sev- slave of a party, could not govern alto- 
eral of his officers. He told them what he gether according to his own inclinations." — 
had done. "When I went there," he said, Hist. Eng. Vol. i, p. 152. It would be 
** I did not think to have done this. But difficult to prove that Cromwell was not 
perceiving the Spirit of God so strong upon both, " a persecutor and a meddler." As 
me, I would not consult flesh and blood." neither character can be justified in a repub- 
— Guizofs Cromwell, Vol., i. p. 318. lican, the plea of mihtary necessity cannot 

2 Macaulay says, — "Oliver, indeed, was avail him. 
little disposed to be either a persecutor or a 



COMMONWEALTH OF CROMWELL. 



349 



a safe one — provided it could be carried out by a monarchy — under another 
name.^ This was an absurdity. He was no less a monarch because he 
was called a Protector.^ The new title was popular, it was promising to 
the people, it was democratic. But was it redeemed? Where does history 
recite a more revolting tyrann}^ than that to be found in his policy towards 
Ireland?^ Even if it was redeemed by him, was it redeemed by his son? 
Was his experiment a success ? In his republicanism he was led to adopt 
the peculiar weakness of monarchy, its hereditary liabilities, without suffi- 
ciently divesting himself of his natural selfishness to avail himself 
of the peculiar strength of democracy. If he reformed the representative 
system in constituting a new House of Commons, — there was but little 
merit in it because he permitted no continued life or freedom to the 



1 Voltaire says, — "Cromwell, an usurper, 
worthy of a throne, had assumed the title of 
protector, not that of king; because the 
English knew how far the regal prerogatives 
ought to extend, but were not acquainted 
with the limits of the protectorial author- 
ity." He was called, not His Majesty, but 
His Highness. The army detested the 
name of King. — See Millofs Hist., Vol. v, 
p. 160. 

2 Among Cromwell's papers, proofs were 
found of his dealings with the Cavaliers, 
and some lines against the Protector, 
written in his own hand : — 

" A Protector ! what's that ? 'Tis a stately thing, 

That confesseth itself but the ape of a king; 

A counterfeit piece, that woodenly shows 

A golden effigy, with a copper nose. 

In flae, he is one, we may Protector call. 

From whom the King of Kings protect us all." 

— Old Pari. Hist. Vol. xx, pp. 481, 432. 
Guizofs Cromwell, Vol. ii, p. 129. 

3 The Scotch and English having rebelled 
against the I^ng in 1639 (for the march of 
the Scottish rebels to the Border in that 
year was on the invitation of the leaders of 
the popular party in England, though they 
themselves did not openly take the field till 
1642), the Irish rose in his favor. They 
were finally subdued, in 1652, by Cromwell 
and the arms of the Commonwealth ; and 
then took place a scene not witnessed in 
Europe since the conquest of Spain by the 
Vandals. Indeed, it is in justice to the 
Vandals to equal them with the English of 



1652; for the Vandals came as strangers 
and conquerors in an age of force and bar- 
barism, nor did they banish the people, 
though they seized and divided tlieir lands 
by lot ; but the English in 1652, were of the 
same nation as half of the chief families in 
Ireland, and had at that time had the island 
under their sway for five hundred years. 

"The captains and men of war of the 
Irish, amounting to 40,000 men and upwards, 
they banished into Spain, where they took 
service under that I^ng; others of them, 
with a crowd of orphan boys and girls, were 
transported to serve the English planters in 
the West Indies ; and the remnant of the 
nation, not banished or transported, were to 
be transplanted into Connought, while the 
conquering army divided the ancient inheri- 
tances of the Irish amongst them by lot." — 
Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland, hy John 
P. Pender gast, Esq., Preface p. xi. 
See ^^ Britannic Constitution," hy Roger 
Ache7-ly, Esq. Also, Robertson's History 
of the Emperor Charles V., Appendix to 
Introduction. 

Daniel O'Connell says, — " When the war 
had ceased, Cromwell collected, as the first 
fruits of peace, 80,000 Irish in the southern 
parts of Ireland, to transplant them to tlie 
West India Islands. As many as survived 
the process of collection were embarked in 
transports for these islands. Of the 80,000, 
in six years, the survivors did not amount 
to twenty individuals ! " — O^ConnelVs Mem- 
oir of Ireland, p. 7. 



350 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

bod}'. His attempt to organize a House of Lords was ludicrously inconsist- 
ent.^ If he bestowed new liberties upon the nation, he as clearly infringed 
old ones which had been enjoyed b}^ the people through time immemorial."'^ 
He wished to believe that monarch}' was dead, and the proclamation was 
made to this effect by his followers, and j-et, in principle he recognized not 
onl}' a monarch in himself, but was willing to impose a successor upon the 
people. This was dishonest. As a representative man he was false to his 
own standard. As a subject, he placed himself upon the record as a traitor. 
The good he accomplished has served to extenuate his crimes, but not to 
confirm the safety of his examples. He was false to his own theory, 
false to his own professions, and he furnished another example of human 
frailt}^ mistaking the qualifications of vanity for the means of strength. 
He seized distinction as if it were a power. He sought to ally himself 
with the nobility that the ancient families of the kingdom might be restored 
to power, and in connection with his own name. He seemed to forget that 
his usurpation ^ had its origin in coercion, and his success was acquired, 
and his rule continued only by means of military power. He displaced 
men when he could not command their confidence, and parliaments when 
they failed to heed his unconditional requisitions. What he failed to 
accomplish at home, he endeavored to make up by imposing alliances 
abroad. What he could not do b}^ peaceful means he was ever ready to do 
by war. He believed in force, when he commanded it, but he feared con- 
spiracies and insurrections, when others questioned his policy, or opposed 
his measures. Surrounded by royalists who hated him, and by influential 



1 " This was the least happy of his con- authors are not disposed to echo the infidel 

trivances," says Macaulay, "and displeased and tory opinions of England." He speaks 

all parties. The Levellers were angry with of Dr. Stiles, in his History of the Judges, 

him for instituting a privileged class. The and of a writer in the Christian Spectator, 

multitude, which felt respect and fondness for Sept. 1829, as creditable exceptions. 

for the great historical names of the land, He also refers to the famous hne of Pope, — 
laughed without restraint at a House of Lords 

in which lucky draymen and shoemakers " See Cromwell damned to everlasting fame." 

were seated, to which few of the old nobles as aiding to confirm "the prejudice against 

were invited, and from which almost all of Cromwell." 

those old nobles who were invited turned The historian has no choice but to employ 

disdainfully away." — Hist. Eng. Vol. i, p. language legitimately. Democracy has no 

127. , defence but in truth. It is not prejudice 

2 Hume's Hist. Eng., Vol. v, p. 421. to speak of a fact as it is, nor is it calumny 

3 Prof. J. D. Knowles, in his " Memoir of to draw the line of distinction between right 
Roger WilUams," (pp. 300, 301) says,— "It and wrong— in the acts of the same individ- 
is surprising to hear, from American writers, ual. Arguments may explain facts, but 
reproaches against Cromwell as a usurper, they can neither modify nor annihilate 
They show the effect of a discreditable defer- them. Pacts are independent of all theo- 
ence to foreign writers. But all American ries and parties. 



COMMONWEALTH OF CKOMWELL. 851 

friends who doubted him, his administration was one of constant difficulty 
and embarrassment. His military enterprises, and secret agents loaded him 
with anxiety and debt, and whatever troubled him gave confidence to his 
enemies. His early familiarities with the oflScers and soldiers of the army 
were deemed to be inconsistent with his dignity when he became Lord Pro- 
tector, and his discontinuance of such attentions tended to change the likes 
of companionship into jealousy and disgust. He was in constant fear of 
assassination,^ and not without good reasons, for while he claimed credit 
for some good things, no one was more conscious than himself of what 
he had done to create an atmosphere of violence. Without influential 
friends to whom he could look for disinterested counsel, and without the 
S3'mpathies even of his own famil}', he became perplexed and impatient, 
and he was prepared for any measures, however reckless, provided they 
increased his safety, and lessened his dangers. He feared danger from 
every person and every movement, and he heavily armed himself, and was 
surrounded b}^ a strong bod}^ guard when exposed to surprise or attack. 
He was loud in his profession of principle, and of his devotion to duty, 
but he appeared to be ignorant of the fact — that the rule of democracy has 
no occasion for a standing arm}^ in time of peace, nor special pride in a 
leader, who, however skilful as a commander, had not the courage to heed 
the warning voice of the Decalogue,^ or to practise the simple rules of plain 
and honest dut3\^ 



iThe consciousness of this position, which 
daily impressed itself more strongly on his 
mind, led him to adopt incessant and most 
vigilant precautions for his own safety ; he 
wore a steel shirt under his clothes ; when- 
ever he went out his carriage was filled with 
attendants, a numerous escort accompanied 
him, and he proceeded at full speed, "fre- 
quently diverging from the road to the right 
or left, and generally returning by a differ- 
ent route," In his residence at Whitehall, 
he reserved several bed-chambers to his own 
use, each of which was provided with a se- 
cret door. He had chosen men for a con- 
stant body guard. — Guizofs Cromwell, Vol. 
II, p. 329. 

2 His wife, Elizabeth Bourchier, who, 
though he lived on good terms with her, fur- 
nished her more than once with just cause 
for complaint. Lady Dysart, who afterwards 
became Duchess of Laudervale, Lady Lam- 
bert, and perhaps others, whose names are 
not certainly known, had been, or still were, 



on terras of intimacy with Cromwell, which, 
though carefully kept secret, had not com- 
pletely escaped detection : he is said to have 
had several natural children. — Guizofs 
Cromwell, Vol. ii, 343. 

3 From his apartments in the Cockpit he 
had removed with his family to those which 
in former times had been appropriated to 
the king ; they were newly furnished in the 
most costly and magnificent style ; and in 
the banqueting-room was placed a chair of 
state on a platform, raised by three steps 
above the floor. Here the Protector stood 
to receive the ambassadors. They were in- 
structed to make three reverences, one at 
the entrance, the second in the midway, and 
the third at the lower step, to each of which 
Cromwell answered by a slight inclination 
of the head. When they had delivered 
their speeches, and received the reply of the 
Protector, the same ceremonial was repeated 
at their departure. — Dr. Lingard's Hist. 
Ung., Vol. viii, p. 211. 



852 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

A home government, like that of the family, becomes a tj^anny unless it 
be based upon the consent and affections of the governed, and upon the 
right of resistance against the unwarrantable subversions of constitutional 
safe-guards. Sole confidence in the military power implies sad ignorance 
of the sublime attributes of Deit}-. In addition to political cabals he found 
militarj' cabals quite as dangerous to meet, and more difficult to master. Prat- 
ing soldiers, and self confident fanatics acquire an independence of opinion 
incompatible with wise subordination. They are taught self reliance, not 
in view of experience or of capacity, but of conceit and passion. Self is 
supreme as to power and wisdom, and considerate counsel is heresy. An 
unwise resort to arms increases the difficulty sought to be remedied, and 
every succeeding step of such a policy serves to multiply evils which force 
ma}^ continue, but wiiich force cannot end. This truth was demonstrated 
b}'^ Cromwell, not b}^ his successes, but failures. His confidence in coercion 
enabled him to control men, whether in parliament or in the arm}-, and such a 
practice was in violation of democrac3% The power of principle, the laws 
of right and of progress — have an inherent force superior to that of art, and 
beyond the visions of human capacity. When men are opposed by obsta- 
cles of their own creation, and imagine that their reverses are but the tests 
of Providence, and that they have become the chosen ministers of God — 
their frenzy increases in proportion to the extent of their disappointments. 
A fanatic never doubts himself. He literally adopts the teachings of Scrip- 
ture — " He that doubteth is damned." Human capacity is at a great 
discount when God is claimed as a partisan, and great defeats are viewed 
as preparations for great reforms. Cromwell's prayers, and special Fasts 
were almost invariabl}^ followed by acts of increased violence and outrage. 
He could discover the hand of God in a floating cloud, ^ concurrent with his 
own devices,— but he failed to see it in an obstacle to his will, — even 
though at the sacrifice of peace and life. As his confidence was increased 
in himself, it was lessened in others. His convictions of safety within the 
means of his own control are not to be classed with those of honest dutj', 
but with those of apprehended danger, where he sees no choice, and makes 
the plea of necessity. Thus power becomes centralized by the process of 
doubt. Friends are doubted, wise and honest men are doubted, councils 
are doubted parliaments are doubted, kings are doubted, — and even God 
himself is doubted — if Providence does not promptly meet the exigencies 



1 In speaking of the harassing attacks of not the Lord, hy his Providence, put a 

Gen. Lesley, Commander of the Army in cloud over *he moon, thereby giving us an 

Scotland, Cromwell says, — *' One of these opportunity to draw off those horse to the 

attacks during tlie night, was so vigorous, rest of our army." — Guizofs Cromwell^ 

that our rear brigade of horse, had like to Vol. i, p. 139. 
have engaged with their whole army, had 



COMMONWEALTH OF CROMWELL. 353 

of fanaticism. He was not inspired by the confiding spirit of the pious 
Ezra to confess his shame in asking for a body-guard when in the special 
service of his God.^ The nature and extent of his faith may be seen in, 
the fact that he " termed his guns his twelve apostles." 

That Cromwell did not strictly trust in God — ma}^ be seen by his numer-^ 
ous measures intended to centre supreme control in himself. He spent 
large sums in secret service ; ^ he doubted his ministers by restrictive 
instructions ; he doubted his generals and his soldiers, because they did not 
always respect his will, and he gave them but little discretionary power ; 
he doubted jury trials because their verdicts did not always harmonize with 
his avowed purposes ; he doubted the freedom of the press, without a cen- 
sorship ; ^ he doubted democracy, for while he claimed to honor the Parlia- 
ment above royalt}^, he exceeded constitutional royalty by controlling the 
Parliament. While he adopted the theory of levelling what he called the 
inequalities of societ}', but which Were only its higher and lower conditions, 
he organized a despotism. Not that he might secure to the people a demo- 
cratic government, but that he might signalize himself as a despot. He 
claimed to have a plan of government, in accordance with his professions 
of principle, but his practice was subversive of his theory-, and to his 
disma}' he was compelled by slow and painful degrees to reap the fruits of 
his perfidy. If he did not have the audacit}- to supplant his own Com- 
monwealth, he did not hold himself guiltless of the presumption of claim- 
ing a kindred successor, nor of advancing his family to places of 
trust and distinction. His want of ultimate success was not attributable 
to democrac}^, but to the absence of it. His apparent piet}' and integrit}*, 
his professed devotion to freedom and equality, his native vigor and 



1 Ezra, Ch. viii, 22. Lord and demanded to know the destination 

2 Cromwell believed in secrecy in con- of one of his fleets." Cromwell replied, 
ducting public affairs, and he seemed to " My good friend, the Lord shall know, for 
enjoy the peculiar duties of such a policy, thou shalt go with the fleet." He immedi- 
In 1654, Parliament placed at his disposal ately gave orders for having him stowed in 
two fleets of three thousand soldiers. He one the vessels then under sailing orders ; 
merely stated that their duty would be and sent him out, thus confined, with the 
to establish the maritime predominance of expedition. This was both a rebuke and a 
England in all seas. One day, a mob of confession. 

the wives of the sailors who were serving 3 in 1653 the number of weekly news- 
on board, pursued him through the streets, papers was twelve. This number after the 
inquiring whither their husbands were to be Protectorate was reduced to eight. An 
sent. Cromwell replied with a smile : "The order of Council, dated Sept. 5, 1655, pro- 
ambassadors of France and Spain would hibited the future publication of any paper 
each of them willingly give me a million to without the special and continued sanction 
know that." — Guizofs Cromwell.^ Vol. ii, of the Secretary of State." — Goodwill's 
p. 173. On another occasion one of his Hist, of, the. Commonwealthy Vol. rv, p. 
fanatics approached him * ' in the name of the 225. 

23 



35i HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

skilful judgment, his displa3^s of promised advantage and public triumphs, 
inspired the people with new hopes and energies, and led them to imao-lne 
that new sources of enterprise had been opened to the countr}^, and that 
by the blessing of God, thej were to enjoj^ the immunities of freedom, and 
increased fruits of their own industrj'. But such visions of hope and 
expectation were not to be realized. The earliest friends of Cromwell 
were among the first to manifest an impatience with the results of their 
collective blunders, and to pray for a return " to the good old cause." This 
was equivalent to asking for a repetition of all their trials and misfor- 
tunes. The parliament they had, was not the parliament they wanted. 
The}' did not want a parliament for its counsels and wisdom, but for its 
subservienc}'. They did not trust the people without an attested assur- 
ance of their loyalty. Not loyalty to the Constitution, but to the party. 
Their party had become the government. It was a novel suggestion that 
the "Long Parliament " which had been expelled by the Protector, might 
be revived at will to serve their purposes. This was demanding life from 
death. This course was adopted, but with all the mean precautions of a 
narrow partisanship, and with all the cowardly expedients calculated to 
excite the contempt and disgust both of the army and of the people. As 
eyerj measure of the struggling Commonwealth was a forward one, and no 
step backward, new follies were added to the follies of the past — until the 
Republican party perished from political congestion. 

A party that is false to its trusts, is incapable of devising means to save 
itself. The Republican party of Cromwell divided and subdivided into 
factions, and as he had failed to develop a plan for their adoption, or to 
give them a practical knowledge of democracy, — thej were all left to the 
uncertainties of anarchy, and to the misgivings of conscience unaided by 
knowledge. If Cromwell did not leave a son capable of perpetuating his 
name and rule, he certainly had the negative merit of leaving one who had 
but little ambition to persist in continued revolution, or to engage in public 
affairs. If it was not his lot to have a general who could unite his army 
after his decease, defend republicanism, and complete his scheme of govern- 
ment, — it was his Providential fate to have one whose judgment and courage, 
whose prudence and foresight could put back the government to its consti- 
tutional foundations. The general that aided him to remove monarchy was 
full}' prepared to return it. Monk was a willing and consummate general 
for the Commonwealth, and for the Kingdom " a miracle." ^ Richard Crom- 



1 The Speaker of the House of Commons, commanded by his house to take notice of 

April 25th, 1G60, was authorized to present his eminent services, his wisdom being 

thanks to Lord-General Monk, for "his such, and God having so blessed him in his 

eminent and unparalleled services done to great affairs, that he hath made a conquest 

these nations."** He said, — "That he was of those who are enemies and disaffected to 



COMMONWEALTH OF CROMWELL. 355 

well, it may be said, left wide open the door of the Commonwealth, and 
though crowds of his followers were eager to enter to have part in moving 
its clums}^ machinery', no one, save the old friend and chosen servant of 
his father, had the means to clear the way and take possession for the suc- 
cessor of Charles the First. Revolutionary hands became the means of 
Restoration. There was no bolder democratic republican than Sidney, but 
he was no revolutionist. 

But this imperfect sketch of the Cromwellian period would be incomplete 
without the speech ^ of Sir Henry Vane,^ delivered in 1659, against the 
succession of Richard Cromwell to the Protectorate. 

" Mr. Speaker," — said Sir Henry, " Among all the people of the uni- 
verse, I know none who have shown so much zeal for the liberty of their 
countr}^ as the English at this time have done ; they have by the help of 
divine Providence, overcome all obstacles, and have made themselves free. 
We have driven away the hereditary tjTanny of the house of Stuart, at the 
expense of much blood and treasure, in hopes of enjoying hereditary lib- 
erty, after having shaken off the yoke of kingship ; and there is not a man 
among us who could have imagined that any person would be so bold as to 
dare to attempt the ravishing from us that freedom which cost us so much 
blood, and so much labor. But so it happens. I know not b}' what mis- 
fortune, we are fallen into the error of those who poisoned the Emperor 
Titus to make room for Domitian ; who made away Augustus that the}' 
might have Tiberius ; and changed Claudius for Nero. I am sensible 
these examples are foreign from loay subject, since the Romans in those days 
were buried in lewdness and luxury, whereas the people of England are 
now renowned all over the world for their great virtue and discipline ; and 
3'et, — suffer an idiot, without courage, without sense, — na}', without ambi- 
tion, — to have dominion in a country of liberty ! One could bear a little 
with Oliver Cromwell, though, contrary to his oath of fidelity to the 
Parliament, contrary to his duty to the public, contrary to the respect he 



the goyernment, happiness, and welfare torrent, swept everjiihing before it. Ora- 

of this church and state, without a bloody tory, genius, and the spirit of Hberty, 

nose." * * * He closed by declaring, never achieved a more complete triumph. 

" so that God's raising him up, accompany- It was signal and decisive, instantaneous 

ing, blessing, and assisting him in his and irresistible. It broke, and forever, the 

counsels, in such sort as to accomplish his power of Richard and his party." After 

work to that height, cannot be otherwise its delivery Richard never again appeared 

owned by those that look upon him, and his in public. 

actions, than as a miracle." — Pari, Deb., 2 gir Henry Vane was born in Kent, 

Vol. rv, p. 13. England, in 1612 ; was the fourth Governor 

1 This speech is taken from the Biogra- of the Colony of Massachusetts, in 1636 ; 

phia Brittannica. One of Vane's biogra- and was executed for high-treason on 

phers thus speaks of it : — " This impetuous ToAver Hill, in 1662. 



356 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

owed to that venerable body from whom he received his authority, he 
usurped the Government. His merit was so extraordinary^, that our judg- 
ments, our passions, might be blinded by it. He made his way to empire 
by the most illustrious actions ; he had under his command an army that 
had made him a conqueror, and a People that had made him their General. 
But, as for Eichard Cromwell, his son, who is he? what are his titles? 
We have seen that he had a sword by his side ; but did he ever draw it ? 
And, what is of more importance in this case, is lie fit to get obedience from 
a mighty Nation, who could never make a footman obey him? Yet, we 
must recognize this man as our King, under the style of Protector ! — a man 
without birth, without courage, without conduct ! For my part, I declare, 
Sir, it shall never be said that I made such a man mj^ master ! " 

So far as Cromwell was true to Democracy he was successful. So far as 
he brought into activity" new and faithful men, and rebuked and dismissed 
incapable and unfaithful servants, he was useful, — but democracy is in no 
way responsible either for his sins or his blunders.^ He was indebted to 
his military power for his position, and such power in time of peace is 
destructive of all civil government whether it be in the hands of a King, or 
a Eepublican. It is against democracy and cannot stand. But, should 
monarchists congratulate themselves on the Restoration, and regard it as a 
triumph of their form of government — they are to be reminded that before 
and after the Commonwealth, royalty was subjected to three failures, in the 
reigns of Charles the First, Charles the Second, and James the Second. 
The fact that the Restoration was accomplished by a coalition of parties, 
shows that neither was right in principle, and that both were wrong in practice. 



CHAELES THE SECOND. 

It is difficult to determine which character is to be preferred to serve the 
public, that of Cromwell who violated his professions of religion and 
democrac}^, or that of Charles the Second, who made no professions of 
principle, and surrendered himself, as a man, to reckless indulgences, and 



1 " Crom-wellwas not a philosopher," says of time, and a variety of other causes apart 

Guizot, "he did not act in obedience to from human deliberation. Entering, so to 

systematic and premeditated views ; but he speak, into council with these superior 

was guided in his government by a superior powers, he regarded himself as their repre- 

instinct and practical good sense of a man sentative and minister, by the right of hia 

destined by the hand of God to govern." genius, and of his manifold successes.'* — 

* * * "He had learned that no govern- Hist. Oliver Cromwell, Vol. ii, p. 101. 

ment is, or can be, the work of man's will The rights of genius — are self-assertive, 

alone; he had recognized, as essential to This is an interesting subject to study in 

its production, the hand of God, the action connection with the duties of genius. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 357 

as a king, to the vilest bribes. Cromwell's assumptions were popular, inas- 
much as they favored the theory of popular rights, and deferential submis- 
sion to Divine Providence. He was a man of business and comprehensive 
views, and he was deemed eminently to be a man of God. He professed 
to believe in the efficacy of prayer, and in the mj^steries of faithj — and 
while he exercised no judgment above the nature of man, he had the 
supreme arrogance to inspire his followers with the belief that his wisdom 
was derived from God. He was a hypocrite in his religion, a fanatic in his 
politics and a despot in his rule.^ Charles the Second was popular because 
his accession to the throne afforded gratifying evidence that the British 
Constitution was still acknowledged. The royalists were elated because 
they could rejoice in the return of party power. The people, who had 
been cheated by promises, and deceived by professions — were frantic for a 
change, — though ignorant of the sources of their troubles and misery, and 
of the means of relief. The}- could not understand why they should be so 
constantly exposed to dangers and distractions under the government of 
Cromwell, — and they preferred the uncertainties of the future, under a 
king, of whose rule they were ignorant, — to the continuance of a Parlia- 
ment, under whose rule they were suffering. Present misery is a mean 
counsellor. It is cowardly. The people were ready in their frenzied zeal 
to join Cromwell in taking the life of Charles the First, and to denounce 
royalt}' as a crime ; and now they were equally prepared to denounce 
republicanism as treason — and to re-proclaim roj^alty as an indispensable 
condition. Hereditary right lost its charm when it failed to give protec- 



1 Sidney was a republican, but he was Bradshawe, and others, who would have 

a democrat. He favored lawful revolution, the trial to go on, and drew my reasons 

but he was loyal to the constitution of his from these two points : first, the King 

own country. The difference between Sid- could be tried by no court ; secondly, that 

ney and Cromwell may be seen in Sidney's no man could be tried by that court. This 

views respecting the trial of Charles I., being alleged in vain, and Cromwell using 

given in his own language: — "I do not these formal words, ' I tell you we will cut 

know the particulars, but the truth of what off his head with the crown upon it,' I 

passed I do very well remember. I was at replied, * You may take your own course, I 

Penhurst when the act for the trial passed, cannot stop you, but I will keep myself clear 

and coming up to town, I heard my name from having any hand in the busin^ess,' — and 

was put in, and that those that were nomi- immediately went out of the room, and never 

nated for judges were then in the painted returned." In Blencowe's Sidney Papers, 

chamber. I presently went thither, heard p. 237 — Sidney goes on to say, — *' I had an 

the act read, and found my own name with intention which is not very fit for a letter." 

others. A debate was raised how they Sir James Macintosh interprets this passage 

should proceed upon it ; and after having by the supposition that Sidney's intention was 

been sometime silent to hear what those to procure the concurrence of both houses 

would say who had the directing of that of parliament in the deposition of the 

business, I did positively oppose Cromwell, King." — Hist, of Parties, Vol. i, p. 56. 



35 S HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

tion, and for the same reason democracy lost its power when it was false 
to principle. Whence these inconsistencies? Are they to be traced to 
unwarrantable motives of ambition, to desperate partisans who are indiffer- 
ent to means provided they can command results ? Are they the fruits of 
ignorance, or of a misguided zeal that discards experience and holds 
knowledge in contempt? Are people ignorant of what they want, or of the 
means to supply their wants ? Are people ignorant of principles — that they so 
seldom succeed in government, or of men — that government is so badly 
administered? These are practical questions, and where citizenship is a 
privilege should find practical answers in the events of history. Montes- 
quieu had substantial reasons for doubting the moral foundations of a 
monarch}^, — but of these most people were but little informed.^ England 
was misgoverned by Charles the First, by Cromwell, and what evidence 
was it that influenced the people to believe that thej^ were to be better 
protected by the government of Charles the Second? Was it in the form 
of the government which they had so recently discarded by violence and 
blood ? Was it in the character of the new King who was yet to be tried ; 
in the wisdom of his probable advisers ; in the new Parliament yet to be 
elected ; in the church reforms ; or, in the agreements of part}^, — all 3'et to 
be determined? No ! Nothing could be more uncertain. Mere change is 
to be the remedy, but to what, no one knows, and to whom, no one cares. 
It is almost a proverb, that we 

— " rather bear those ills we have, 
Than fly to others that we know not of." 

And 3'et, a suffering people are ready for any change, provided it be a 
change, that they may have a chance to escape from a greater to a lesser 
evil. When deliberate judgment is needed most, it seems to have no place 
in society. Public opinion is characterized by the impulses of passion, 
and led by the delusive appeals of party. If patriotism were understood — 
what was there in the Restoration to gladden the hearts of the people ? 

Charles the Second was a profligate. He had no ambition to be great, 
no conscience to be honest, no pride to be decent. To him marriage was a 



1 In speaking of the genius of a mon- such a monarchy as this. — See Hist, of 

archy, and quoting the political testament Party., Vol. i, p. 121. 

of Cardinal Richeheu, Montesquieu says, 2 Such was the effect of the fascinating 

*' If there should chance to be some manners and specious qualities of Charles," 

unlucky, honest man among the people, a says Prof. Smyth, "that he was never 

prince should take care not to employ him. hated or despised in the degree which he 

So true is it that virtue is not the spring of deserved."— i/ecjfwres on Modern History, 

this government." — Esprit des Loix I. p. 328. 
ni, c. 5. France under Louis XIV. was just 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 359 

nullity, woman a pleasure, and chastity a joke. His natural instincts were 
generous, but he had no firmness to be just. With ignoble motives, he had 
an imperfect conception of friendship, and but little power to be grateful. 
Although he was a slave to importunity, but few could dupe him. " It has 
been remarked of Charles," says Hume, " that he never said a foolish 
thing nor ever did a wise one." ^ He loved pleasure, and hated business, — 
and while he asked for no condition above that of the sensualist, he 
objected to no measure so long as he was exempted from official cares, and 
had an unrestrained access to the public treasury. When young he was 
much among the Puritans, and frequently indulged in unguarded mirth at 
their expense. One would suppose from the recklessness of his habits, 
and his indifference to character, — that he felt justified in omitting all their 
virtues provided he was but faithful in imitating their vices. He was evi- 
dently of a benevolent disposition, and was free from the spirit of persecu- 
tion and revenge, and 3'^et his frivolity excited the contempt of his attend- 
ants, and his sense of honor was no guaranty against acts of shame and 
injustice. Rapin has but little charity for him. He says, " He became as 
sanguinarj^ as he had hitherto appeared merciful, and as soon as he had 
power in his hands, made his enemies feel the most terrible eff'ects of his 
vengeance." 

What could be expected from such a King, when public affairs were in 
the most uncertain and distracted condition?'^ When unscrupulous parties 
and desperate factions were springing up to renew old animosities and 
degrading recollections, and returning to unsettled issues with increased 
prejudices and intensified passions ? He was welcomed by all classes with 
manifestations of uncommon joy. Some with pride and exultation, some 
with mingled hope and fear, — but all with apparent pleasure had the 
desperate consolation that his coming could make matters no w^orse even 
if he failed to make them better. He was popular, and in an aristocratic 
sense — even loved. " With the restoration of the King," is the language 
of Burnet, " a spirit of extravagant J03' spread over the nation, that brought 
on with it the throwing off the very professions of virtue and piety. All 
ended in entertainments and drunkenness, which over-run the three king- 
doms to such a degree, that it very much corrupted all their morals. 
Under the color of drinking the King's health, there were great disorders 
and much riot everywhere." ^ These manifestations of joy, it may be said, 



1 Hume's England, Vol. vi, p. 282. tion, the King feasted with the ladies of his 

2 The Dutch fleet sailed up the Thames," seraglio, and amused himself with hunting 
says Maeaulay, " and burned the ships of a moth about the supper room." — Hist, of 
war which lay at Chatham. It was said Eng. Vol. i, p. 179. 

that, on the very day of that great humilia- 3 Vol. i, p. 93. 



360 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

were apparently justified, if full credence be given to the brave and benig- 
nant assurances made b}" the King in his Declaration from Breda,^ and in his 
letters to Gen. Monk, to the House of Peers, to the House of Commons, 
and to the Lord Ma3'or of London. So great was the satisfaction of the 
Commons that the}^ voted five hundred pounds to Sir John Grenville, the 
bearer of the King's communications.^ " The calamities of his house," 
says Macaulaj', " the heroic death of his father, his own long sufferings and 
romantic adventures, made him an object of tender interest. His return 
had delivered the country from an intolerable bondage. Recalled by the 
voice of both the contending factions, he was the very man to arbitrate 
between them ; and in some respects he was well qualified for the task. 
He had received from nature excellent parts and a happy temper. His 
education had been such as might have been expected to develop his under- 
standing, and to form him to the practice of every public and private 
virtue. He had passed through all varieties of fortune, and had seen both 
sides of human nature." ^ 

With such an experience, and having " seen both sides of human 
nature ; " taught by select and accomplished teachers, and influenced by the 
imposing associations of birth, and dignified by position ; endowed with 
mental capacities sufficient for self-respect and judgment, and with patriotic 
sentiments trained to regard himself as the rightful heir to the crown of 
England, and to be the instrument of its restoration, and the avenger of a 
father's death, — one would have supposed that he would have chosen for 
himself a patriotic part, the part of honor and wisdom, a part that should 
in some degree redeem the errors of ro3'alty, if not correct the mistakes, 
and punish the crimes, committed in the name of republicanism. This was 
not to be. Though republican rule had failed to bless the people, royalty 
had not yet triumphed. 

This failm-e should not be attributed entirely to the deficiencies of the 
king. The immoralities of his time were epidemic^ He had not caused 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, p. ]5. make the most lively expressions of their 

2 " So great and sudden was this," says duty and of their joy, that a man could not 
Lord Clarendon, "that a servant of the but wonder where those people dwelt who 
King's, who, for near ten years together, had done all the mischief, and kept the 
had been in prisons, and under confine- King so many years from enjoying the com- 
ments, only for being the King's servant, fort and support of such excellent subjects." 
and would, but three months before, have — Vol. vi, p. 761. 

been put to have undergone a shameful 3 Hist. Eng. Vol. i, p. 156. 
death, if he had been known to have seen ^ "The truth is," says Prof. Smyth, " that 
the King, should be now rewarded for bring- this period was marked by a sort of conspir- 
ing a message from him ! From this time acy against all sobriety and order, against 
there was such an emulation and impa- all liberty and law, against all dignity and 
tience in Lords, Commons, and City, and happiness, public and private ; and we must 
f^enerally over the kingdom, who should not suffer our taste for pleasantry, and our 



CHARLES THE SECONP. 361 

them, nor was it in his power to banish them by proclamation. He saw 
but little in others to respect, — and he cared but little what others cared 
for him. He saw that politics was a mere game, as practised by the most 
pious of men. He saw that what his father lost was won by Cromwell, 
and what Cromwell lost was won by himself, — and without merit 
except that of mere birth, and he doubtless was at a loss to comprehend 
why men should be willing to make sacrifices for principle, when 
success appeared to crown the ambition of a subject with regal honors 
at the expense of a king— who fell from high condition with no circum- 
stance that would not have attended the fall of the meanest peasant.^ In 
addition to the demoralization of society, which always follows in the deso- 
late track of civil war, — the king could not but remember the cant and 
hypocrisy of the Puritans in their excessive zeal, and their repeated fail- 
ures to redeem their pledges in giving peace to the nation. How could he 
respect their judgment, when in council they gave birth to no s^^stem of 
government ; or their motives, when their acts of administration were in 
contradiction to their declarations of policy ? The moment the Republicans 
had succeeded by the usurpations of Cromwell, the dissolution of their 
party commenced. Parties ignorant of the means of progressive life, are 
born only to die. Faith without corresponding practice has no vitalit3\ 
The spasmodic measures of the Republicans, were thought to be measures 
of energy, as they were in a limited sense ; nevertheless they were but the 
mere death-throes of the party. They passed from error to error, from 
blunder to blunder, — and were constantly engaged in the mournful duty of 
correcting their own mistakes, from month to month, from year to year, 
until they sought party life at the expense of the existence of the govern- 
ment itself, and in the power of coercion, — the greatest error of all. 
Seeing the gross fallacies of these fanatics, claiming as they did, God as 
their leader, Libert}^ as their motto, and Equality of Rights as their pur- 
pose ; and failing to disclose their theory of government in a definite form, 
and to reduce it to practice,^ — there need be but little wonder expressed why 
Charles the Second should ascend the throne of his fathers, other than as 
a skeptic, both as to men and things, and utterly indifierent as to the part 



admiration of shining talents, to betray us ties was called integrity. The chief trick by 

into a forgetfulness of every graver virtue which handsome women kept up the price 

which can seriously occupy our reflection or of their beauty was called modesty. The 

engage our respect." — Mod. Hist., p. 328. love of God, the love of country, the love 

1 " According to him," says Macaulay, of family, the love of friends, were phrases 

" every person was to be bought. But some of the same sort, delicate and convenient 

people haggled more about their price than synonyms for the love of self. Thinking 

others ; and when the haggling was very thus of mankind, Charles naturally cared 

obstinate and very skilful, it was called by very little what they thought of him." — 

some fine name. The chief trick by which Hist, of Eng,, Vol. i, p. 157. 
clever men kept up the price of their abili- 



362 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



he should take in public affairs, — provided he could enjoy the pleasures of 
self-indulgence, which though doubtful in their tendencies, were certain in 
their possession. "When he came to power he was surrounded by the Cav- 
aliers, the Roundheads, the Presbyterians, the Papists,^ the Royalists and 
the Republicans. All alike had been humbled by gi'ievous disappoint- 
ments, and elated by occasional victor}'. All had assented to the Restora- 
tion, all came to bend the knee, to proffer counsel, and to claim protection. 
The King, in his J03'0us disposition to meet his dutiful subjects in their new- 
born harmon}', received them all with undisguised cordialit3\ He prom- 
ised ever^'thing to everybod}-, and soon found that he could be true to 
nobod3\^ The regicides punished, the Roundheads plead their efficiency in 
the patriotic struggle to save the Constitution from regal encroachments. 
The}' had exposed themselves to the rage of the soldiers in attempting to 
save the life of the King, and " had taken chief part in bringing back the 
ro3'al famil3'." 

Although the throne was restored to the Ro3"alists, the Commons and the 
Church were in the hands of the Presb3'terians and Independents. The bish- 
ops had been deprived of their seats in the House of Lords, the Presb3'terian 
Director3' had taken the place of the Liturg3', — but before Presb3'teriaDism 
had full3' prevailed, — both bishops and presb3'teries w^ere neutralized alike 
b3' the accession to power of the Independents. The church was detached 
from State, and each congregation was declared to be independent, not of 



1 "In the present age," says Cooke, " the 
Catholic religion is in England merely the 
faith of a sect. Tlieir views are bounded 
by the prospect of a perfect equality with 
their fellow subjects, and they are no more 
dangerous to our Constitution than any 
other of those numerous religious sects 
with which the kingdom is so rife. But in 
the reign of Charles II. it was far different. 
Popery was then only another name for 
unlimited power in the monarch, and 
unlimited oppression to the subject." — Hist, 
of Party, Vol. i, p. 8. (1837.) Such 
were the views of John Hampden, — ex- 
pressed during the debates upon the Exclu- 
sion Bill. 

2 The expressions of the King and of his 
court," says Dalrymple, "were calculated 
to restore good humor to the people, and to 
reconcile the animosity of parties almost 
spent with contention. To the Presbyterian 
clergy, who waited upon him in a body, 
Charles said, " I will make you as happy as 



I am myself." To his parliament, "I will_ 
as soon burn 3Iagna Charta, as forget the 
act of oblivion." When the King heard 
any member was discontented, he used to 
say, "What have I done to deserve this 
gentleman's dislike? I wish he and I were 
acquainted, that I might give him satisfac- 
tion," etc. * * * " Yet," Dalrymple 
continues, " amidst these promising appear- 
ances between Prince and people, there 
lurked the fruits of past dissensions, and 
the seeds of future ones." * * * 
"Many of the republicans, too, from nature 
could not, and others from conscience would 
not, relinquish their old principles; and, 
when the republic they adored was no more 
to be obtained, they converted their hatred 
of monarchy into jealousy of the monarch." 
— Memoirs of Great Britain, Vol. i, pp. 
23, 25. It was wittily said, " That the act of 
oblivion (passed Sept. 1G60) was an act of 
pardon for his enemies, and of obUvion for 
his friends."— /ii£?, p. 2Q, 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 363 

advice or counsel, but of all arbitrary external decrees. The Cavaliers 
were actuated by mingled motives of zeal and hate, and were impatient for 
the restoration of their part3\ The clergy could not forget the Triers of 
Cromwell, the prohibition of the use of the Common Prayer, both in public 
and private, and the many indignities which were put upon Episcopacy. 
These had been reciprocated by Dissenters. Parties recently united in 
harmon}^ to establish the Restoration, were soon divided and engaged in 
new conflicts. The Church was in confusion, and the new administration 
was without a policy. The chief adviser of the King, was the Earl of 
Clarendon, chancellor of the realm, who had enjoyed largel}^ the confidence 
of Charles the First. He had " shared the exile and directed the political 
conduct of Charles the Second." He w^as able, learned and arrogant. He 
was strongl}" attached to the Church, and it was certain he had no love for 
the Roundheads.^ Though long absent from the countr}^, he probably was 
well informed of the true condition of things at home, and if he committed 
errors as a statesman, they were probabl}" the errors of his passions, and 
not of his heart. In the midst of unyielding differences, he attempted to 
adjust a system of settlement that would prove acceptable to all. Leading 
men representing the different parties favored the attempt as commendable, 
but no one was willing to concede that agreement might follow. Each was 
for himself, no one for all. The King secretly desired to meliorate the con- 
dition of the Catholics, Clarendon and the Church saw no safety in Papacy, 
and the Presb3^terians could see nothing but danger in both. Fanatics 
seldom compromise. Each claiming God as his leader — all are infallible. 
Compromise can come onl}^ from men who are just, when they have power 
to do wrong. Clarendon could make no settlement, he would consent to 
none. The Commons, by whose authorit}" the royal famil}^ had been 
recalled was in session, and it was controlled by the Presb^'terians. Until 
dissolved, no new election could be ordered, and no change effected to 
re-establish the old ecclesiastical system. The Court was silent, the king 
having given private assurances to the Presbj^terians, before Restoration, 
that his subjects should enjoy liberty of conscience. These promises he 
repeated with all sincerit}", and in the belief, no doubt, that he would be 
able to redeem them in good faith. " He wished," he said, " to see the 
spiritual jurisdiction divided between bishops and synods. The Liturgy 
should be revised hj a body of learned divines, one-half of whom should 
be Presb3^terians. The questions respecting the surplice, the posture at the 
Eucharist, and the sign of the cross in baptism, should be settled in a way 

1 " Other Royalists," says Macaulay, or a ceremony, not on account of the comfort 

*' who made little pretension to piety, yet which it conveyed to themselves, but on ac- 

loved the Episcopal Church because she was count of the vexation which it gave to the 

the foe of their foes. They valued a prayer Roundheads, etc. "-Rist.Eng.jYoL. i, p. 149. 



364 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

which would set tender consciences at ease. When the King had thus laid 
asleep the vigilance of those whom he most feared, he dissolved the 
Parliament." 

The Parliament had already voted sufficient appropriations for the sup- 
port of government, though nothing was voted for a standing army. The 
King had also given his assent to the Acts of Indemnity and Oblivion,^ 
which were immediatel}^ confirmed on the meeting of the new Parliament. 
The election took place early in 1661. The party of the Crown and Church 
was victorious. The excitement was great be3'ond precedent, and the 
triumphant party hailed their period of relief as their time for action. 
" The House of Commons was," saj's Macaula}', " during some years more 
zealous for roj^alt}^ than the King, more zealous for Episcopacy than the 
bishops. Charles and Clarendon were almost terrified at the completeness 
of their own success." It was with great difficult}^ that the Cavaliers were 
prevented fi-om rescinding the Act of Indemnit}^, instead of confirming it, 
as they did. If they had been left free, they doubtless would have afford- 
ed another example of disgraceful retaliation under the charitable head of 
Christian forbearance. Extreme party measures were at once proposed, 
and intolerant laws enacted. Penal statutes against non-conformists were 
passed, as if nothing had been said of compromise, as if nothing had been 
promised by the King. He struggled to save his word, but fell. The 
return of ro3'alty had not brought back integrity to the kingdom. The 
Church was restored to its ancient condition without change, but not with- 
out dishonor to its royal head. Monarch}^, the Church, and the Stuarts had 
stood together. They were again united in power, — the Church was safe 
in its exclusiveness, and royalty in its possession of the throne. 

It is not the purpose of this chapter to consider the religious' feuds of 



1 The King "longed very impatiently," sion: "That we might with some cheer- 
to approve this Bill. In a complimentary fulness see your majesty's face, we have 
speech to Parliament, July 8, 1661, he brought our brother Benjamin with us? I 
said, — "Let it be in no man's power to mean your Act of Oblivion; I take the 
charge me or you with breach of our word boldness to call it yours, for so it is by 
or promise, which can never be a good many titles, etc." * * * " Sir, hereby 
ingredient to our future security. Let us you have made this a great holiday ; and 
look forward not backward ; and never we shall observe it with joy and thanks- 
think of what is past, except men put us giving. Upon such solemn festivals, there 
in mind of it, by repeating faults we had useth to be a second service, an antheraj 
forgot ; and then let us remember no more and a collect, or at least an offering. My 
than what concerns those very persons. — affthem shall be, ' Quid tihi retrihuamy 
God hath wrought a wonderful miracle in Domine?^ And my collect, a short report 
settling us as he hath done." That parlia- of your revenue." The King's religion 
raent was in harmony with the joyous dec- was evidently understood by the Speaker, 
larations of the King may be inferred from and in a way most agreeable to his majesty. 
the language of the Speaker, on this occa- — Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, pp. 211, 213. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 365 

this period, — but only to refer to them as elements which served to embitter 
party strife and to add to party animosities. The same issues are still 
open and undecided, and while their full import may be recognized in the 
political affairs of the nation, it is not necessary to participate in the dis- 
cussion of the opposing dogmas themselves. 

In this connection the elegant language of Edmund Burke would not be 
out of place — in reference to the impropriety of connecting party politics 
with the sacred interests of religion, in the pulpit. The same rule that 
would exclude party politics from the pulpit — will exclude sectarianism 
from the pages of this work. '' Politics and the pulpit," said Burke, " are 
terms that have little agreement. No sound ought to be heard in the 
church but the voice of healing charity. The cause of civil liberty and 
civil government gains as little as that of religion, by this confusion of 
duties. Those who quit their proper character, to assume what does not 
belong to them, are, for the greater part, ignorant both of the character 
they have and of the character they assume. Wholly unacquainted with 
the world, in which they are so fondly meddling, and inexperienced in all 
its affairs, on which they pronounce with so much confidence, they have 
nothing of politics but the passions they excite. Surely the church is a 
place where one day's truce ought to be allowed to the dissensions and 
animosities of mankind." Democracy favors civil and religious liberty 
alike. It prescribes no tests in religious belief, no conformity in religious 
opinions. 

It would be interesting and instructive to glance at the condition of 
Scotland ^ and Ireland, from the Cromwellian period to that of the Revolu- 
tion, — and to note the many acts of oppression to which the Scotch and 
Irish were subjected, but the limits of this work will not permit. The 
hardships of England were pleasures in comparison. 

The Restoration gave new life to Episcopacy. This new life came to the 
Church in its weakness, when the possession of power led to its abuse. It 
lost no opportunity to favor the prerogatives of the crown, or to dwell 
upon her favorite theme of non-resistance. This absurd doctrine was 
urged with sickening panegyric, and with that misguided zeal which disgusts, 
but does not convince.^ The power of the clergy was lessened, and 



1 See Macaulay, Vol. I, pp. 464-6. "Kings derive not their titles from the 

2 "The Tories," says Cooke, " had shown people, but from God ; that to hira only they 
themselves a party rather of religionists are accountable ; that it belongs not to sub- 
than of politicians. Their political creed jects either to create or censure, but to 
was part of their religion, and consisted of honor and obey their sovereign, who comes 
principles for which they claimed a divine to be so by a fundamental hereditary right 
origin," — Hist, of Party ^ Vol. i, p. 342. of succession, which no religion, no law, 
The University of Cambridge declared that no fault, or forfeiture, can alter or dimin- 



3G6 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the Church endangered its best friends and its own foundations 
The views of Hobbes — that the rights of opinion should be controlled by 
the will of the king, whatever thej- might be, were suited to the age and 
gave encouragement to the frivolities of fashion, and licentious habits and 
manners which universally prevailed.^ Individual accountability was 
regarded with indifference, and private life became dishonored. Wit and 
ridicule succeeded cant and hypocris}^, and as the profession of religion 
without its practice, had not saved the nation from misrule and anarchy, — 
vice with her delusive charms clothed the voluptuary with honor, and gave 
fascination and refinement to lust and guilt. " The clerg}^," says Macaulay, 
" for a time, made war on schism with so much vigor that they had little 
leisure to make war on vice. The ribaldry of Ethridge and Wycherley was, 
in the presence and under the special sanction of the head of the Church, 
publicly recited b}" female lips in female ears, while the author of Pilgrim's 
Progress languished in a dungeon for the crime of proclaiming the Gospel 
to the poor. It is an unquestionable and most instructive fact, that the 
years during which the political power of the Anglican hierarchy was in the 
zenith, were precisel}^ the years during which national virtue was at the 
lowest point." '^ 

The dissolute habits of the King, and the intolerant and hateful measures 
of the dominant part}^ alarmed the most prudent of the Cavaliers, and dis- 
gusted the most honest. Even the Puritan rule, with all its destructive 
fanaticism, was safer, better, surer. Some did not hesitate to wish its 
return. The Court was but a lewd scene of gaj^ety,^ and Parliament an 
unthinking council of party strife and bitterness. Legislation was charac- 
terized by the unforgiving passions of the bigot, and by the ignorance and 
dishonesty of trading politicians. The government was paralyzed by party, 



ish." — Ibid, Vol. i, p. 105. rilmer says, 2 Hist, of Eng., Vol. i, p. 169. 

" A man is bound to obey the King's com- 3 On Sunday evening, the 1st of Pebni- 

mand against law, nay, in some cases, ary, 1685, Evelyn was at Whitehall. A 

against divine laws." — Patriarchia, p. 100. week after he recorded his impressions of 

1 " Hobbe's politics," says Hume, "are the scene which he there witnessed. "I 

fitted only to promote tyranny, and his can never forget," is his language, "the 

ethics to encourage licentiousness. Though inexpressible luxury and profaneness, gam- 

an enemy to religion, he partakes nothing ing, and all dissoluteness, and as it were 

of the spirit of skepticism ; but is as posi- total forgetfulness of God, it being Sunday 

tive and dogmatical as if human reason, evening. The King sitting and toying with 

and his reason in particular, could attain a his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, and 

thorough conviction in these subjects. In Mazarine, etc. ; a French boy singing love 

his own person, he is represented to have songs in that glorious gallery ; whilst above 

been a man of virtue ; a character nowise twenty of the great courtiers and other 

surprising, notwithstanding his libertine dissolute persons were at Basset around a 

system of ethics. He died in 1679, aged large table, a bank of at least two thousand 

ninety-one." — Ifist. Ung., Vol. v. p. 531. in gold before them." 



CHAKLES THE SECOND. 367 

and party was demoralized by pitiful experiments, and disgraceful failures. 
Why should it be otherwise ? How could it be otherwise ? When men are 
unfit for societ}^, the}" are still less fit for government. It was well known 
that Clarendon was the responsible minister, and though his greatest 
trouble was in trying to repress and neutralize the follies and vices of the 
King, 3^et all looked to him as to the great source of their disappointment 
and sufferings. He was hated for what others were permitted to do, and 
for what he could not do himself. His personal qualities were permitted 
to prejudice his public acts. He could not abandon his party without dis- 
honor, and his party could not save him and save itself. He was too stern 
for the Commons, too grave for the Court. He was too unrelenting to the 
Puritan, who dislikes his own likeness in others, too honest for the royal- 
ist. He seriously ofi'ended the Presbyterians of Scotland, and the Papists 
of Ireland. Whatever was wrong in public affairs was traced to him. He 
sold Dunkirk,! made war with Holland, amassed riches with selfish motives, 
and made ostentatious displays offensive to the pious, and distasteful to the 
envious. He was dismissed by the King, and impeached b}^ the Commons. 
He fled from the countr}", and was doomed to perpetual exile. ^ Here was 
another experiment, but no remed3\ The disgrace of Clarendon did not 
reform the King, nor purify the Court. It had all the external show of an 
indignant rebuke, but it was not the rebuke of conscious duty. It was from 
polic}", not wisdom, — from passion not principle. It did not improve the 
people, nor reform the corrupt and disabled Parliament.^ It was a party 



1 "The sale of Dunkirk, says Cooke, *'is peachment against Clarendon. He replied 

a blot upon the annals of the country." — to them by letter, and the letter was 

Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 3. Clarendon delivered to parliament after his departure 

never disguised the reason of the sale. He from the country. He was sufficiently 

writes to D'Estrades, — " However his maj- acquainted with his enemies to be unwilling 

esty, even contrary to the advance of most to trust his life in their hands, and as they 

of those with whom he hath consulted, will could not have the satisfaction of taking off 

cause the town of Dunkirk, with all the his head, they indignantly voted that his 

cannon, arms, and ammunition, to be deliv- written defence " should be burnt by the 

ered into the possession of the King of common-hangman." — Pari. Deh., Vol. iv, 

France, and will lend him such of the p. 398. 

troops as he shall desire, upon the payment ^ The subject of frequent parliaments was 

of five millions of ready money; the earnestly discussed during the reign of 

present payment being so absolutely neces- Charles the Second, — but with little or no 

sary for His Majesty's affairs, that the con- success. The first was the Convention 

fidence he hath in the King of France's Parliament which met April 25th, 1660; the 

friendship would have persuaded him to second, the " Pensionary Parliament," so 

have hoped for a good part thereof, by called, which met May 8, 1661, and contin- 

way of loan, if this overture of Dunkirk ued eighteen years. It was a parliament of 

had. not been made." — Clarendon's State seventeen sessions, and was dissolved by 

Papers, Supp. to Vol. hi, p. 24. proclamation, January 24, 1678-9. During 

•* There were seventeen Articles of Im- the sessions there were frequent adjourn- 



368 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



expedient, — a diversion to a smaller sacrifice to prevent a larger. The 
government was willing to lessen its strength to conceal its weakness.^ 

The troubles which succeeded the fall of Clarendon, in the counsels of 
the King, soon exemplified the real weakness of the government. Its want 
of wisdom to submit to counsel, led to the appointment of advisors who had 
no advice to give, but were ready to act according to the requisitions, or the 
necessities of part3% It was a Cabal, not a Ministry. It was truly 
named, and as such, it will ever be known in history.^ The Cabal con- 



ments. The third Parliament was con- 
vened March 6, 1678-9, — and was dissolved 
by proclamation in May. The fourth Par- 
liament met October 7, 1679, was pro- 
rogued to 17th, and adjourned to 30th, and 
after seven prorogations — met for business, 
Oct. 21st, 1680. Fifth and last Parliament, 
met at Oxford, March 21st, 1680-1. 

In the House of Lords, Nov. 20, 1675, 
the Earl of Shaftesbury said,— "That it is 
according to the constitution of the gov- 
ernment, the ancient laws and statutes of 
this realm, that there should be frequent 
and new Parliaments, and the practice of 
all ages, till this last, hath been accord- 
ingly. Parliaments, both long before and 
after the conquest, were held three times 
a year, viz : — Easter, Whitsuntide, and 
Christmas, during the space of eight days 
for each time, and so continued with some 
variations, as to the times of calling, and 
length of holding; but always very short, 
until the reign of Edward III., in the fourth 
year of whose reign there was a law made, 
— ' That Parliaments should be holden 
every year, once, or more often : ' and how 
this law is to be understood, whether of a 
new parliament every year, or calling the 
old, is most manifest, by the practice not 
only of all the ages before, but of some 
hundreds of years since that law ; proroga- 
tions or long adjournments, being a thing 
never heard of until latter years." — Pari. 
Deb., Vol. iv. Appendix, p. lxxi. In 
the House of Commons, 1680, Mr. Booth, 
afterwards Earl of Warrington, said, — 
" What kings performed such enterprises, 
and did such wonderful things, as those who 
still consulted their parliaments? And who 
had more the command of the people's 



purses than those kings who met the 
natives frequently in Parliament? As wit- 
ness, Henry I., Edward I., Edward III., 
Henry v., Henry VIII., Queen Elizabeth; 
and what kings were so mean and obscure, 
despised by their neighbors, and abhorred 
by their subjects, as those who left ofi" the 
use of parliaments and doted upon their 
favorites; as witness, William 11. , John, 
Henry III., Edward II., Richard II., 
Henry VI. I think it is undeniable that 
when the King leaves off parliaments, he 
forsakes his interests, he refuses the good 
and chooses the bad." — FarL Del., Vol. 
IV., p. 1270. 

1 See Macaulay's Hist, of Eng., Vol. i, 
p. 181. 

2 " It happened by a whimsical coinci- 
dence," says Macaulay, " that, in 1671, the 
cabinet consisted of five persons, the initial 
letters of whose names made up the word 
Cabal : Clifibrd, Arlington, Buckingham, 
Ashley, and Lauderdale." — Hist. Eng., 
Vol. I, p. 198. In speaking of this period. 
Prof. Smyth says, " The reader instantly 
perceives, from the first appearance of the 
celebrated ministry called the Cabal, to the 
end of Charles' reign, that the most impor- 
tant struggle is still carrying on between the 
power of the crown and the rights of the 
people ; and that the reign of Charles II. is 
but a sort of supplement to the Great 
Rebellion in the time of his father." Hume, 
though inclined by party incredulity to 
favor royalty, was not bold enough to deny 
the evidence of treason against the people, 
and he recites it in a supplementary note in 
his history. He says, " It must be allowed 
that the difficulties, and even inconsisten- 
cies, attending the schemes of the Cabal, 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 

sisted of Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashle}', and Lauderdale. Sir 
Thomas Clifford had been active in the House of Commons, and was more 
influenced by passion than by any love of principle. Lord Arlington 
endeavored to be something to all men, and succeeded in being nothing to 
the world. Buckingham was a man of pleasure, and he claimed to be a man 
of taste. As he was true to no party, he was made a tool of by all parties. 
He is classed by Cooke as among the " occasional allies of the Whig 
party." He says, — This nobleman was naturally and essentially a minion 
of the Court ; every popular vote he gave was prompted either by resentment 
against the King, or fear of the Commons, He, Lord Percy and the phi- 
losopher Hobbes, formed the triumvirate, who enjoj^ed the reputation of 
having made Charles what he was," etc.^ Ashley believed in all parties, 
and he appeared to be impartial in serving all with equal faithfulness. 
He was so skilful in his transitions that the people were almost disposed 
to regard him as a statesman of progress. He was always ready for a 
start and a change. Lauderdale was distinguished for his coarseness and 
treachery. At heart he was believed to be a Presbyterian, and ^^et, he was 
alwaj's prepared with all the hateful appointments of force to compel his 
countrj^men to abandon the covenant and embrace Episcopac3\ He was 
willing, probabl}", to serve Charles the Second to compensate for his dis- 
loyalt}^ to Charles the First. The renegade is a convenient tool, — prized 
for what he is willing to do, and detested for what he has done. Each 
member of this celebrated Cabal doubtless had special qualities to com- 
mend him to royal favor ; and they were all sufficiently cunning to assume 
a gravitjs and displa}^ a character — that commended them for a time to the 
people. Whether they could be classed as statesmen, or as adventurous poli- 
ticians, — it is not necessarj^ to inquire. In their union, the old adage was 
fully verified, which asserts a fact — if it does not convey a compliment, — 
" that birds of a feather flock together." ^ 

But, in this era of sin and degi'adation, so abandoned to profligacy, 
corruption, and almost every species of wickedness, — were there no honest 
men, no bold patriots to assert the integrity of the government and the 
laws, no pride of citizenship, no democratic party to defend the rights of 



are so numerous and obvious, that one feels edge, (though there remains no direct 
at first an inclination to deny the reality of evidence of it,) that a formal plan was laid 
these schemes, and to suppose them entirely for changing the religion, and subverting 
the chimeras of calumny and faction. But the Constitution of England ; and that the 
the utter impossibility of accounting, by King and the ministry were in reality con- 
any other hypothesis, for those strange spirators against the people." — Hist^ Eag, 
measures embraced by the court, as well as Vol. vi, pp. 126, 127. 
for the numerous circumstances which i Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 50* 
accompanied them, obliges us to acknowl- 2 See Appendix C 
24 



370 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the people, and to save the nation from t3a'anny and disgrace ? Were all 
guilty alike, and without the force and pride of principle ; without the 
dignit}' and courage of duty to denounce treason, to rebuke immoralities, 
the prostitution of justice, the unbridled lusts of royalty, the culpable and 
profane neglects of religion ? Was nature so slandered in man, that man 
could see no safety in virtue, no danger in vice? Was humanity so 
depraved, that woman loathed the refinements of societ}', and found bliss 
in the indecencies of life ? Was the nation deserted by God, and aban- 
doned to the chance games of trading politicians, that so many acts of sin 
were permitted, that so many years were allowed to pass barren of good- 
ness and wisdom, of noble endeavor and of virtuous felicity? Though the 
laws and institutions of man were mocked and derided, — had the laws of 
God been suspended or repealed, — that a whole generation could abandon 
itself to ungodly passions with irreverent impunity ? 

Such questions, although they indicate honest inquiry, imply doubt in 
that Providence which is the rule of Him who cannot err, and whose will is 
the unchangeable law that gives existence to the immortal soul, and life to 
all material things. The works of God are eternal. There is no change 
in their nature. They never cease. Their design may be subverted by 
sin, their blessings changed to calamities by ignorance, and their beauties 
obscured by error, — but these perversions are overruled hy an All-wise 
Providence, and made to declare to an observing world the great trutli that 
without righteousness greatness and happiness are impossible. Divine 
goodness pervades the universe, and its laws are the conditions upon which 
all blessings depend. The reign of wickedness is but the delusive flame of 
an hour that poisons and destroys the life it can neither give nor save. It 
rises and falls upon the accumulated heap of its own ruins, but it can 
never obstruct or pollute the source of all truth, nor lessen its divine power 
and beneficence. A generation is but a moment with God, but its lessons 
abide forever. 

It has been truh^ said that the history of England is the history 
of libert3\^ It was the declaration of Alfred, the greatest of all the 
Saxon Kings, — " That it was just the English should remain forever as 
free as their own thoughts," thus proudly claiming the high privileges 
which belong to merit and character. The conflicts of royaltj^, ^ the 



1 The history of England is the history of 2 "After the reigns of the two first 

liberty, and of ?the influence which the Norman Princes," says Dalrymple, "the 

spirit of it, kept aliv:e during a long revolu- Saxons and Normans, respecting their com- 

tion of ages, has had oipon the constitution, mon origin and common rights, united their 

the religion, the wealth, the power, and, interests, and made the great charter an 

above all, upon the dignity of the national original condition of the settlement of the 

character of the English. — Dalrymple's crown upon Henry I. an instrument of 

Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 1. liberty which, by means of parliaments^ 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 



371 



changes of parliament,^ the honest demands of the people, in the due pro- 
cesses of time, have all resulted in a more extended freedom, in a more 
permanent security. The Church,^ the crown, the parliament, the people, all, 
each in its own way, had done right and had done wrong. This perpetual 
struggle between right and wrong is stayed by no man's will, is continued 
by no man's power, — and yet all men are appointed to perform their parts 
in the battle of life. There can be no exempts. Whether active or idle, 
positive or neutral, strong or weak, right or wrong, good or evil, — all have 
a mission, all have a destin3\ As it is an axiom in physical science that 
not a particle of matter can be destroyed, — so it is equally an axiom in 
morals — that whatever is right in the soul is indestructible in Providence. 
Some profess to believe in the controlling hand of Providence in the life of 
individuals, but absurdly doubt this great truth when applied to society. 
In a letter written by the Earl of Essex to Mr. Harbord, 1675, he says, — 



established the political, and of juries, the 
civil rights of the citizens ; and which, by- 
subjecting to the laws, and to the laws only, 
their property, their persons, and their 
honor, conferred badges of distinction upon 
Englishmen, unknown to the citizens of 
Rome and of Sparta. The struggles of their 
posterity to get this charter renewed, which, 
althougli confirmed above thirty times by 
different Princes, (1773) was seldom re- 
newed without compulsion, and their 
attempts to extend it, kept the flame of 
liberty alive." * * "In the breaches of 
royal successions, ramparts were formed for 
the defence of the people." * * "Advan- 
tages were in the same way taken of domes- 
tic dissensions in royal families." * * 
"The subject was satisfied to find occa- 
sions, whether in the weaknesses or the 
crimes of human nature, to restrain 
the power of the crown, even by degrading 
the person who wore it." — Memoirs, Vol. 
I, pp. 2, 3, 4. 

1 In speaking of the "Restoration Parlia- 
ment," Prof. Smith says, — "It must be 
allowed that more care was taken of the 
liberties of the subject by the House of 
Commons than the general principles of 
human nature would have led us to expect ; 
and this is an important merit that belongs 
to the Presbyterians, who constituted so 
large a portion of its members, particularly 



to Sir Matthew Hale, the judge so justly 
celebrated. He endeavored to take proper 
securities for the Constitution, — to come to 
some understanding with the King on this 
subject before he was finally restored ; but 
all proposals of this kind were overruled." — 
Modern History, p. 301. 

2 "The zeal for independence," says 
Dalrymple, "was not confined to the laity. 
Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, was at 
the head of the nobles, who maintained the 
first great struggle for Magna ChaHa, 
against King John. After the same act of 
security had by the aid of the bishops and 
abbots been extorted from his son, they 
stood around it, with burning tapers in their 
hands, whilst it was read in parliament, and 
denounced curses against those who should 
infringe it. They concurred with the laity 
in most of their attempts to humble their 
princes." * * * "The united spirit of 
laymen and churchmen rose equally against 
ecclesiastical tyranny." * * * "In the 
reign of Henry III. the dignified clergy 
refused to submit to taxes imposed upon 
them by the Pope, although submission was 
recommended by the King. And the 
bishop of London exclaimed upon this 
occasion, " That, if the mitre was taken 
from his head, he would clap a helmet in 
its place." — Memoirs, Vol. i, pp. 4, 5. 



372 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

*' This country has been perpetually rent and torn since his majesty's res- 
toration. I can compare it to nothing better than the flinging the reward 
upon the death of a deer among a pack of hounds, where every one pulls 
and tears what he can for himself." 

The society of this period, like all periods of humanity, was divided 
into classes, and these into parties — according to professed principles or 
special interests. Each party had its honest but credulous men who were 
willing to follow dishonest leaders, with indefinite motives, and each party 
liad its share of patriotic men, who, though able in mind and noble in char- 
acter, were weak in numbers. The masses were ignorant, indifferent and cor- 
rupt. The Tories, in power, abused the prerogatives of government for party 
purposes, and made party the ignoble instrument of unrestrained indecen- 
cies, and inglorious bondage.^ Not only are the party features of the times 
to be particularly noted, but the spirit of party in defence of those times, 
even a hundred years later by tory writers, is to be considered.^ Though 
the amiable Hume admitted the indispensable importance of political par- 
ties to the cause of liberty,^ he was reluctant to acknowledge the disgrace- 
ful conduct of the tories in power, or to give evidence, which he possessed, 
to prove treason against the King and his ministers. After he had written 
the history of this period, "he made inquiries in France," ssljs Prof. 
Smyth, " during his residence there, and saw with his own eyes that direct 
evidence which he had not supposed in existence. This evidence was found 
in some manuscript volumes kept in the Scotch College at Paris, and which 



1 "The dissolution of Charles the Second's dutiful submission to his prerogative, and 
last parliament," says Dalryraple, " in the deepest abhorrence of those who en- 
April of the year 1681, together with the deavored to encroach upon it, by prescribing 
general belief that he was never to summon to him any time for assembling the parlia- 
another, produced various sentiments in the ment. Thus the nation came to be distin- 
nation. The spirits of the Tories were guished into petitioners and abhorrers. 
raised, and those of the Whigs depressed ; Factions indeed were at this time extremely 
the former in proportion to their late fears, animated against each other. The very 
and the latter to their late hopes." * * * names by which each party denominated its 
"Men of moderate sentiments were dis- antagonists, discover the virulence and 
pleased with both parties ; with the Whigs, rancor which prevailed. For besides peti- 
because, in their zeal for liberty, they had tioner and abhorrer, appellations which 
refused the King's offer of limitations upon were soon forgotten, this year is remarkable 
a popish successor; and with the Tories, for being the epoch of the well-known 
because, in the excess of their loyalty, they epithets of "Whig" and " Tory." — Hist. 
rejoiced in the Iving's resolution to assemble Eng., Vol. vi, p. 218. 
parliaments no longer." — Memoirs, Vol. i, ^ Read all — Hume, Burnet, Neal, Claren- 
p. 67. " Wherever the church and court don, Dalrymple, Harris, Macpherson, Vol- 
party prevailed," says Hume, " addresses taire, Hallam, Macaulay, Smyth, etc., and 
were framed, containing expressions of the the subject of parties will be understood, 
highest regard to his majesty, the most 3 gee Hist, of England, Vol. iv, p. 469. 
entire acquiescence in his wisdom, the most 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 373 

Mr. Hume was permitted to peruse. These manuscript volumes were 
neither more nor less than a journal written by James the Second in his own 
hand, of his own life, during the most critical period of our history. 
From such a treasure as this, it is a matter to be lamented, and, indeed, 
deserving of extreme surprise, that such a historian as Hume did no more 
than produce a single extract." ^ 

Such surprise, however, ma}^ well be lessened when it is seen how little 
inclined Hume was to correct part}^ errors. In the brief sketch of his own 
life, written the year of his death, 177G, he says, — "But though I had been 
taught by experience that the Whig party were in possession of bestowing 
all places, both in the state and in literature, I was so little inclined to 
yield to their senseless clamor, that in above a hundred alterations, which 
further study, reading, or reflection engaged me to make in the reigns 
of the two first Stuarts, I have made all of them invariably on the tory 
side." 2 

The representatives of democracy, or " the patriotic leaders," as they 
have been justly denominated,^ such as Sidnej^, Russell, Hampden, Hale, 
Jones, Temple, Marvell,^ and others, though too few in number to command 
success, were too patriotic to be either silent or idle. They were sur- 
rounded by enemies who hated them because they were honest, and by 
friends who were constant only when treacher}^ ceased to be profitable. 
The tories had no occasion for such counsellors. Besides, honest men have 
no security when acting with dishonest associates. " It was the misfor- 
tune of the Whigs of this age," says Cooke, " that the}^ were obliged to act 
in concert with men whose violence, both in principles and in action, pre- 
cipitated them often into imprudent, and sometimes into unjustifiable meas- 
ures." More than this, the popular cause was prejudiced b}^ men who 
ignored party obligations. The desperadoes and fanatics who had been the 
tools of Shaftesbury, such as Rumsey, West, Ferguson, Holloway and 



1 Modern History, p. 307. leaders, and in the ruin of all." — Modern 

Hist. p. 319. 

2 History of England, Vol. i, p. 10. , p^^^^ g^^^^ ^^^^^ ^p^^^^ ^^ ,, ^^^ p^^^^.^^ 

3 " During the first period of their con- Andrew Marvell." " Of this man it is well 
test with the crown," says Prof. Smyth, known,'* he says, "that the treasurer Danby 
*' ihe patriotic leaders must be considered once made big way lo his garret, and, under 
as successful. The king, we may remem- a proper disguise of courtly phraseology, 
ber, broke the seals of his Declaration and offered liim a bribe. It was refused ; and 
gave way. But during this second period, this virtuous representative of the people, 
the event was otherwise ; the king could when he had turned away from the thousand 
neither be persuaded nor intimidated into pounds of the minister, was obliged to dine 
any compliance with the wishes of his a second time on the dish of the former day, 
opponents ; and the struggle ended at and borrow a guinea from his bookseller." 
length in the execution of some of their — Modern Hist.., p. 329. 



374 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Goodenough, became reckless when they lost their leader. When he was 
" obliged to leave England, the spell by which these spirits had been bound, 
was broken." ^ Numbers without integrity afford no strength to a political 
party, nor ever any real aid to government. Indeed, they multiply dangers 
by their schemes of iniquity, and by making promises they cannot redeem. 
They rely upon plots of danger, and cunning management. The Eye- 
house, and Popish 2 plots were striking illustrations of this truth. 

In times of great political commotion, parties are liable to be imposed 
upon by plots of threatened danger devised by wicked men for party pur- 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, pp. 225, 262. 

2 According to Rapin, the popish plot 
(1678) united in one conspiracy three par- 
ticular designs : to kill the King, to subvert 
the government, and extirpate the Protest- 
ant religion. Lord Stafford was convicted 
as one of the conspirators, and beheaded — 
though he protested his innocence. In view 
of the excited condition of the people, Dal- 
ryraple thinks that the Earl of Shaftesbury 
" framed the fiction of the popish plot, in 
order to bury the Duke, and perhaps the 
King, under the weight of the national fear 
and hatred of popery. Shaftesbury was 
stimulated too, by offences both given and 
received. For the king having said to him, 
' Shaftesbury, thou art the greatest rogue in 
the kingdom ; ' he answered bowing, * Of a 
subject. Sir, I believe I am.' And the 
Duke having rated him in passionate terms 
for one of his speeches in parliament, ' I 
am glad,' said he, 'your Royal Highness 
has not called me also papist and coward.' 
Assuming that Shaftesbury was the author 
of the plot, a certain Lord in his confidence 
asked liim, ' What he intended to do with 
the plot, which was so full of nonsense as 
would scarce go down with tantum non 
idiots ; what then could he propose by 
pressing the belief of it upon men of com- 
mon sense, and especially in parliament?' 
*It is no matter,' said he, 'the more nonsen- 
sical the better ; if we cannot bring them to 
swallow worse nonsense than that, we shall 
never do any good with them.' " — Memoirs, 
Vol. I, p. 46. These statements do injus- 
tice to Shaftesbury. His keen irony was 
mistaken for confession. "He was violent 



and ambitious," says Cooke, "but he was 
not corrupt. No statesman has been more 
unfairly treated by the writers of both 
parties ; liis want of political consistency 
lost him the favor of each ; but none of his 
accusers have ever denied to Shaftesbury 
the character of being an incorruptible 
judge, and a man of honor." * * "As 
the father of the Habeas Corpus Act, and 
the originator of that measure which after- 
wards purified our corrupted courts of 
justice, by rendering the judges independent 
of the crown, he would alone deserve the 
gratitude of all generations of his country- 
men." — Hist, of Party, Vol. i, pp. 49, 
129. M. Ruvigni, the Minister of Louis 
XIV. — was authorized to offer him ten 
thousand guineas, and the highest prefer- 
ments, if he would serve him — but he was 
not influenced by the bribe. When Shaftes- 
bury was led to the tower crowds of people 
followed him — saluting him with their 
prayers and good wishes. One of them 
cried out — " God bless your lordship! and 
deliver you from your enemies." He 
replied, with a smile, " I, my friend, have 
nothing to fear ; rather pray to God to deliv- 
er them from me." — Life of Shafiesbury, 
Vol. II, p. 288. The " Rye-House Plot;* 
was a pretended conspiracy to assassinate 
Charles the Second, and his brother the 
Duke of York (afterwards James II) at 
a place called Rye-House, on the way to 
London from Newmarket. Algernon Sid- 
ney suffered death on a false charge of 
being concerned in this conspiracy, Dec. 
7, 1683. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 375 

poses. When the people are in a state of ignorance and frenzy, — they are 
easily frightened by tales of horror. Whether true or false, is a matter of 
but little inquiry. The most absurd fiction, for a time, may be as terrible 
as the most alarming truth. Writing under date of 1678, Hume sa3's, — 
" The English nation, ever since the fatal league with France, had enter- 
tained violent jealousies against the coui't ; and the subsequent measures 
adopted by the King had intended more to increase than cure the general 
prejudices. Some mysterious design was still suspected in eveiy enter- 
prise and profession ; arbitrary power and Popery ^ were apprehended as the 
scope of all projects ; each breath or rumor made the people start with 
anxiety ; their enemies they thought, were in their very bosom, and had 
gotten possession of their sovereign's confidence. While in this timorous, 
jealous disposition, the cry of a plot all on a sudden struck their ears ; they 
were wakened from their slumber ; and like men affrighted in the dark, 
took every figure for a spectre. The terror of each man became the source 
of terror to another. And a universal panic being diffused, reason and 
argument, and common sense and common humanity, lost all influence over 
them." * * * "In all history, it will be difficult to find such another 
instance of popular frenzy and bigoted delusion." ^ Macaulay says, — 
" Hundreds of thousands whom the Popish Plot had scared into Whiggism 
had been scared back by the Rye-House Plot into Toryism."^ That the 
Popish Plot was connected with the name of Shaftesbury is sufficient evi- 
dence that it was designed to compromise political opponents. Sometimes 
a joke, too good to be discredited, is permitted to give currency to false- 
hood when it seems to help a sinking cause. 

The democrats of the time were not permitted to act openly, and boldly, 
and they were tempted to place themselves in a false position that they 
might indirectly serve their country. They found, however, that the attain- 
ment of good cannot be aided by the fictions or contrivances of iniquity 
anj^ more than the schemes of sin and depravity can be matured and 
advanced b}' the lofty motives of patriotism. The elements of good are 
indestructible in their nature and results. Evil is self-destructive, and yet 
its presence is made to disclose the great law by which goodness is made 
more beautiful. 

It has been wisely said regarding this epoch, that " mankind are ever in 
extremes, their resistance or rebellion no sooner ceases and changes into 



1 In the House of Lords, on a Bill not so much as a Popish cat to pur or mew 

against Popery, a noble peer said, — "I about the king." — ^wme. Vol. vi, p. 187. 
would not have so much as a Popish man 2 History of England, Vol. vi, pp. 171, 

or a Popish woman to remain here ; not so 186. 
much as a Popish dog or a Popish bitch ; 3 History of England, Vol. i, p. 443. 



376 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

obedience than their obedience becomes servilit3\"i These changes 
comprehend the cause and effect of progress, and if carefnll}- studied, 
the beautiful truth is seen to be demonstrated, as expressed b}^ the poet, 
that 

*' the first Almighty Cause 

Acts not by partial, but by general laws." 

And, with the poet, the reader will be inspired reverently to ask, — 

" Who knows, but He whose hand the lightning forms, 
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms ; 
Pours fierce ambition in a Caesar's mind, 
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?" ^ 

*' It is a characteristic of Providence," says Sir John Dalrymple, 
" which human wisdom should not, however, attempt to imitate, to employ 
apparent evils for the attainment of real good, and to render dissension, 
as well as union, beneficial to mankind. The British nation has made its 
waj' through many dangers and troubles : The parties, by which it has 
been agitated, may have, each in its turn, run to extremes : But the result 
of the whole has been a constitution, which, by securing to all orders of 
men the rights of mankind, has never been equalled in any age or nation." 
* * * " If we suppose that Charles II. was serious in intending to bury 
the Protestant religion, the liberties of England, and the Dutch Common- 
wealth, in one grave, he may be considered as the most criminal of all 
English Princes. And, if we impute his indecisive and desultory measures, 
after he withdrew from the war, either to levity, or to the influence of the 
sums he received from foreigners, his conduct will appear in a very mean 
light. But, if his motives were really as criminal and mean as they are 
generally supposed to have been, the consequences of them afford one of 
the many instances in the English historj^, in which good has arisen to the 
English nation from intended evil." * * * " This period is full of 
events great in themselves, and of all others the most interesting to 
Britons. It exhibits the insidious attempts of one Prince to destroy lib- 
erty, with the desperate boldness of the meanest of his subjects to take 
vengeance upon him for it, and the more generous struggles of a few of the 
greatest of them punished by an application of those laws which they 
meant to vindicate ; the violent attempts of another against the rights of 
his people defeated b}^ his dethronement in the midst of his prosperity ; 
and the establishment of a third Prince, who, though shaken by factions. 



1 Prof. Smyth, Modern History, p. 301. the son of Jupiter Ammon: thence he is 

2 Alexander the Great was vainly styled called young Ammon. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 377 

and betraj'ed by false friendships, yet still generously protected that 
liberty which he had bestowed. Whatever can touch the heart, or rouse 
the spirit, is to be found in this period. The tender death of Lord Russell, 
the heroic one of Sidney ; the favorite son of one King sent to the block 
b}^ his successor, and human nature disgraced in the outrageous punish- 
ment of his followers ; a great monarch seeking refuge from the ancient 
enemies of his kingdom ; a nephew fighting against his uncle ; two sons-in 
law against their father ; and two Kings contending in a disputed kingdom, 
as upon a public theatre, for pre-eminence ; faction in England and Scot- 
land, rebellion in Scotland and Ireland, and invasion impending upon all 
the three kingdoms ; distractions in the Ro3^al family ; divisions among the 
great ; terrors among the people ; France enjoying and insulting the misfor- 
tunes she created, but sharing them in the end ; and a gallant nation in 
continual agitations, not the s^^mptoms of weakness, but of vigor, keeping 
its course straight forward to liberty and glor}^" * * * " Amidst this 
universal corruption of manners, the English nation was, for the first time, 
taught, that the abuse of laws may be worse than the want of them. But 
those of deeper reflection perceived, that an entire revolution of government 
alone could restore the political morals of the people." ^ 

Thus, to answer the numerous inquiries of the historical student, 
Dalrymple reviews the events and grand results of centuries. He speaks 
of " a period, during which the laws were laid almost in ruins, in conse- 
quence of those very efi'orts which were made to preserve them ; jet recov- 
ered all their honors, and established a system of freedom, which, after the 
struggles of six hundred years, was not rendered complete, until this great 
era of British liberty." In speaking of the historical importance of the 
Stuart papers. Prof. Smyth uses even stronger language. He recognizes 
necessity as an element of his philosophj-. He sa3's, — " These papers are 
still perfectly valuable,because thej^ everywhere confirm the reasonings and 
justify the opinions that have been formed by historians and statesmen on 
the critical topics of these times, the corruption of Charles, the bigoted 
and arbitrary nature of James, and the necessity of the Revolution of 
1688." 2 Necessity is a word of comprehensive import. As gravitation is 
to all matter, so is necessity to all divine laws. It is the condition of cer- 
tainty. As here used by Prof. Smyth it not only implies the eternal order 
of cause and effect in human progress, but certainty in the ultimate triumphs 
of justice to the people of a nation. This subject will be further illustrated 
in future chapters. 

Fully to comprehend the teachings of this period, it is necessary to look 



1 Memoirs of Great Britain, Vol. i, pp. 2 Modern History, p. 311. 
20, 42, 66, 71. 



3TS HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

at the condition of Europe. To say more than a suggestive word would 
exceed the limits of this chapter, the design of which is only a brief survey 
of prevailing habits and opinions, and their general results. The greatness 
of Spain had rapidl}^ declined, and other nations were either feeble, or ill- 
governed.^ The great power of Europe was France, in the person of Louis 
XIV. He was a man of unlimited ambition and unscrupulous motives. 
He was able, cunning, handsome, dignified and accomplished. He w^as 
full}" conscious of his own power and position, and aspired to universal 
empire. Like Charles, he was a sensualist, but unlike him he combined 
judgment with his wickedness. He was a dangerous monarch because he 
deliberately intended danger to others.^ Successful negotiation with other 
powers, and his victorious war against Spain — sufficiently indicated the pur- 
poses of Louis, — and gave just alarm to the States General, and to Eng- 
land. By suggestion of Sir William Temple — an alliance was formed 
between England, the States General and Sweden, called the Triple 
Alliance. This measure was as vexatious to Louis as it was pleasing to 
England. The Cavalier felt that a dangerous Catholic neighbor had been 
checked, and the Roundhead rejoiced that England had united herself with 
a republican and Presbyterian people. ''The House of Commons loudly 
applauded the treaty," says Macaulay, " and some uncourtly grumblers 
described it as the only good thing that had been done since the King 
came in." 

The King did not participate in the general joy caused by this treaty. 
It promised much for the nation, too little for him. If he could enjoy 
hunting the moth, with his shameless companions, while the enemy were 
engaged in destroying his ships even in his own waters, — it could not be 
expected that he would give much thought to the subject of foreign alliances 
unless money was to be realized and made subject to his personal drafts. 
Besides, he was constant!}^ engaged in plotting measures of a different 
nature, measures against not onh^ the liberties of England, but the peace 
of Europe. He had not the bold policy of an irrepressible ambition, to 



1 See Hume, Vol. vi, p. 61. the talent of choosing his servants well, and 

2 "No sovereign," says Macaulay, "has the talent of appropriating to himself the 
ever represented the majesty of a great chief part of the credit of their acts. In 
state with more dignity and grace. He was his dealings with foreign powers he had 
his own prime minister, and performed the some generosity, but no justice." — Ifist. of 
duties of that arduous situation with an England, Vol. i, p. 186. "His ambition," 
ability and an industry which could not be says Hume, " regulated by prudence, not 
reasonably expected from one who had in by justice, had carefully provided every 
infancy succeeded to a crown, and who had means of conquest ; and before he put him- 
been surrounded by flatterers before he self in motion, he seemed to have absolute- 
could speak. He had shown, in an eminent ly insured success." — Hist, of England, 
degree two talents, invaluable to a prince : Vol. vi, p. 60. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 



379 



gain power that he might exert it— to make for himself a name that would 
be the wonder of posterit}^, and the pride of his own subjects. No patriot 
could rebuke him without fear of personal indignity, loss of freedom, or of 
life.i An occasional minister opposed him frequentl}^, but with what 
motives, it does not clearly appear. With no motive to become a benefac- 
tor to the world, in an}^ sense, he did not even aspire to the distinction of 
infamous control. His ambition was selfish, mean, contemptible. He 
constantl}^ wanted money that he might extend his pleasures, his debauch- 
eries, — and it was a matter of utter indifi*erence with him b^^ what means it 
was acquired. He was ready to repudiate a debt, to falsify a treaty, to 
make war, to be a Papist or Protestant, to trade with Parliament, and even 
to sell his country to a foreign power — to realize money for his infamous 
purposes. Louis saw his weakness, and did not hesitate to enslave him, so 
far as he could do it by means of lewd women, or by pecuniary obliga- 
tions.^ It was evidently the design of Louis, if possible, to degrade 



1 When Sir .John Coventry asked in the 
House of Commons, in answer to an 
observation that the phiyers were the King's 
servants and a part of his pleasure, whether 
the King's pleasure lay among the men or 
women players, it is well known that 
Charles was so much enraged, that he 
caused the jester to be waylaid, and his 
nose slit with a penknife, to remind him of 
the danger of jesting with royalty. — Burnet, 
YoL. I, p. 345. 

2 " In an evil hour for Charles II.," says 
Dalrymple, "Clarendon had taught him, in 
the very first years of his reign, to receive 
money from France, unknown to his 
people." — Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 31. Not ''In 
the shape of loans to be repaid, but bribes, 
only to be cancelled by treason to the 
people. The two kings agreed to do noth- 
ing without the consent of each other ; it 
was the wish of Louis to declare war 
against the Dutch; that Charles should 
declare himself a Catholic; that parlia- 
ment should be convened, or prorogued 
according to his views and policy; that 
Charles should have the means to bribe his 
ministers or their wives, or to buy votes in 
or out of parliament, and that the English 
army should be increased, or disbanded, 
sent forward or withdrawn, as the interests 
of France should require. For money he 



sold the political rights and dignity of the 
nation he had sworn to protect. In a letter 
dated January 9th, 1679, to Louis XIV., M. 
Barillon says, — "the King of England 
charged me to assure your Majesty he 
wished nothing so much as your friendship, 
and to make a strict union wliich notliing 
might alter ; that he should have an extreme 
joy to owe his safety and preservation to 
you, and would not refuse any conditions 
your Majesty desired." * * * " That he 
liked better to depend upon your Majesty 
than upon his people." — Ihid, Vol. ii, pp. 
255-6. All these agreements were to be 
secret and held sacred. The reader will 
find in Dalrymple interesting accounts, 
though inaccurate as to the names of lead- 
ing Whigs, of the large sums paid by Louis 
and received by Charles, and the names of 
persons who were made parties to the 
disgraceful negotiations. On December 3d, 
1671, Colbert writes Louis, — "that Lady 
Arlington had in her husband's presence 
offered to accept of the present intended for 
her husband. The husband reproached her, 
but very obligingly." On the 30th Novem- 
ber, 1679, Barillon writes Louis, "that the 
Duchess of Portsmouth and Lord Sunder- 
land hinted that they expected gratifications 
from France."— "On the 1st and 21st 
January 1680, that the Duchess of Ports- 



380 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

England to a mere dependenc3^ Macaulay says, " His object was not to 
destro}' our Constitution, but to keep the various elements of which it was 
composed in a perpetual state of conflict, and to set irreconcilable differ- 
ences between those who had the power of the purse, and those who had 
the power of the sword. With this view he bribed and stimulated both 
parties in turn, pensioned at once the ministers of the crown and the chief 
of the Opposition, encouraged the court to withstand the seditious 
encroachments of the Parliament, and conveyed to the Parliament intima- 
tions of the arbitrary designs of the court." This opinion of Macaulay, 
limiting the motives of Louis is not warranted by the facts which he recites. 
He could not have done more if he had intended to destroy the British 
Constitution. He marked England for his prey and he did not leave her 
for a moment. 

The demands of Charles upon the Commons were controlled in some 
degree for the public good. It was evidently his aim to establish a despot- 
ism, to substitute prerogative for constitution and law, — and the Commons 
fearing for its own independence consented to grants only upon conces- 
sions of the crown. The Commons had the prudent merit of fear, if they 
did not have the higher merit of wisdom. They would not trust the King 
with an army. It demanded war with France, but it did not have the cour- 
age to prosecute it when they saw that an army raised for one purpose by 
the Parliament might be easily diverted to another by the King. There 
was a general feeling of doubt and mistrust. The King feared no danger, 
except that of an empty treasurj^, but the Commons were in constant dread 
of treason from the King, of conflict with Louis, or of some horrid plot of 
the Papists. It was even proposed to take away the command of the 
militia from the King, thus indicating one of the usual absurdities of a 
revolutionary spirit, — of saving the constitution by violating it. It is 
true, the concessions of a dishonest and profligate ruler are no security to 



mouth had said to him that Sunderland ized Barillon to make assurances of protec- 

could not be secured to France without a tion to the nation — to the republican party in 

good deal of money." — On the 19th Eebru- parliament. — Ihid, Vol. ii, p. 341. "In 

ary 1680 — "Lord Sunderland and the Barillon's letters," says Dalrymple, " there 

Duchess of Portsmouth have received with are several relations of money sought by 

very good grace the offers of gratification Buckingham and Montague, and sometimes 

which I made them hope for." On the 1st given, but oftener refused to them. So far 

of January 1680, Louis the XIV., wrote to as I could discover in the papers at Ver- 

Barillon "to offer 10,000 pistoles to Sun- sailles, Montague did not receive more than 

derland, and 5,000 to the Duchess of 50,000 of the 100,000 crowns promised him 

Portsmouth, with a promise of a renewal of for ruining Lord Danby " — Ibid, Vol. ii, 

these presents if they would keep Charles p, 390. To make, or destroy character by 

in the interests of France." — Memoirs, Vol. hirelings, has been a political game of all 

II, p. 391. In the same year he author- ages of the world. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 381 

a people who have been deprived of a constitutional government. Still, so 
for as they go they show a surrender to Democracy. They strengthen the 
records of precedent in favor of principle, and ultimately serve the cause 
of freedom. Charles was bribed by Louis, and it is clearly proved that 
Parliament was bribed by Charles. He received large sums from Louis, 
and what was not necessary to seduce the Parliament, was used for 
himself. 

These extraordinary proceedings of a monarch are attested by the 
highest authorities, and by authors whose prejudices would have been apt 
to conceal the facts if their notorietj^ had not rendered such an attempt 
utterly hopeless. In one thing, the King was consistently firm, — he was 
true to his brother. When he saw" that the Constitution would aid him in 
frustrating an enemy, he was true to the laws. In a Providential sense, he 
was true on another occasion, — when he consented to the marriage of Mary 
to the Prince of Orange.^ On the ground of Filmer, and by the 
aid of the clergy, he was doubtless strengthened in his mysterious 
convictions — that he held the crown by Divine right, and that God was 
good against the world, whatever his course might be. His reckless course, 
the rise and fall of his ministers, the changing policy and despair of Parlia- 
ment, the doubtful struggles of party ; the sacred Temple of Justice — pro- 
faned by the insolent lips of crime, and where innocence was made to weep 
and suffer ; the suffering people — raised to the highest degree of 103'al 
enthusiasm and then plunged into the deepest ab3"ss of disaffection and 
dismay ; the disappointment of pious men whose prayers were constant for a 
state of holiness, and of patriotic statesmen whose pride and integrity 
sought peace and the general good, — made up the atmosphere of this 
eventful period, and added another fearful proof that monarchy without 



1 This marriage was earnestly opposed by guard myself, and I assure you I need 
Louis, and it was regarded by him as in everything to enable me to resist the 
violation of promises made by Charles and continual efforts of the whole English 
the Duke of York. His fears were justified nation ; for in fine, I am the only one of my 
by succeeding events. In a letter to Louis, party, except it be my brother. I am 
M. de Barillon gives an explanation in the assured that the Prince of Orangre's mar- 
King's own language. He said,—" I judge riage with my niece will dissipate a part of 
it very necessary for my interests, and I these suspicions, and infinitely serve to 
believe I shall draw considerable advan- show that I have no design which is not 
tages from it now, and greater hereafter, conformable to the established laws and 
This alliance will quiet the suspicions which religion of England." — DalrympWs Mem- 
my subjects have, that the alliance I pre- „oirs, Vol. ii. p. 153. 

serve with France, hath no other foundation It is interesting to see how unwittingly 

than a change of religion. It is my brother, two royal brothers, intent upon tory rule, 

the Duke of York's conduct, that has given combined to depose their own family, and 

rise to all these suspicions." * * * to secure a democratic successor to the 

** This is the rock against which I must throne of England. 



882 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

democrac}', — affords no permanent protection to a nation. To command con- 
fidence and respect ; to insure progress and secure happiness, — no govern- 
ment can succeed but that which rests upon integritj^, and is in harmony with 
the affections of tlie people. When Sir William Temple endeavored to 
embrace this great truth in his wise counsel to Charles the Second, he 
quoted the language of Gourville, a Frenchman, for whom he knew the 
King had entertained a great esteem. "A King of England," said Gour- 
ville, " who will be the man of his people, is the greatest king in the 
world ; but if he will be anything more, he will be nothing at all." The 
king heard at first this discourse with some impatience ; but being a dex- 
terous dissembler, he seemed moved at last, and laying his hand on 
Temple's, said, with an appearing cordiality, " And I will be the man of 
my people." ^ But he was not. In a letter to Louis the XlVth, dated 
March 20, 1673, Mons. Colbert says, — the King of England " assured me 
that 5'our Majesty's sentiments had always more power over him than all 
the reasoning of his most faithful ministers." ^ 

The end of such a monarch was in fearful accord with his iniquitous life. 
He had long indulged in reckless mirth, but the time arrived when he could 
no longer be merr^-.^ In the condition of vigor, in the possession of 
earthly power, and the promise of age, — to use the significant language of 
Montaigne, — he had " been brave before God and a coward before man." 
When he saw that death was near, and that earth to him was soon to be no 
more, he tremblingly removed the long disguise that had concealed his 
inward soul from his people, and confessed its convictions to human wit- 
nesses, that he could not enter into the presence of his God without cor- 
recting his record here, and without beginning another where deception 
could not avail him. The distinguished bishops whom so long he had 
deceived, and upon whom rested the sacred cause of religion in England, 
ceased to command his attention, and no longer controlled his will.^ 



1 Hume's Hist, of England, Vol. vi, p. his subjects, that he was mistrusted and 
130. despised by every court in Europe, and that 

2 Dalrymple's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 115. he had been all his life by the very prince 

3 " Two years before his death," says to whom he had sold the immediate jewel of 
Prof. Smyth, " Charles came to the knowl- his soul, his secret chagrin became at length 
edge of all the French monarch's proceed- visible on his countenance, and for two 
ings : ' he received,' says Dalrymple, ' a yet years before his death, he had ceased to be 
more mortifying stroke ; he found that the the merry monarch who could laugh at 
court of France had been capable of intend- the virtues and triumph in the vices of 
ing (though the design was at last laid mankind.' " — Modern History, p. 330. 
aside) to make public his secret negotia- ^"The King was in great pain," says 
tions with the Duchess of Orleans. What Macaulay, " and complained that he felt 
was the result? Conscious that he could as if a fire was burning within him ; yet he 
be no longer loved by the intelligent part of bore up against his sufferings with a forti- 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 383 

"Many attributed tliis apath}^," says Macaulay, "to contempt for divine 
things, and many to the stupor which often precedes death ; but there were 
in the palace a few persons who knew better. Charles had never been a 
sincere member of the Established Church. His mind had long oscillated 
between Hobbism and Popery. When his health was good and his spirits 
hiffh, he was a scoifer. In his few serious moments he was a 
Eoman Catholic." ^ As a Catholic he doubtless trembled for himself and 
them. He was eager to make Ms peace with heaven when he saw that his 
course of wickedness was to be ended on earth. 

On the morning on which the King was taken ill, the Duchess of York 
had, at the request of the queen, suggested the propriety of procuring 
spiritual assistance. " For such assistance," says Macaulay, " Charles 
was at last indebted to an agency very different from that of his pious wife 
and sister-in-law. A life of frivolity and vice had not extinguished in the 
Duchess of Portsmouth all sentiments of religion, or all that kindness 
which is the glory of her sex.^ The French ambassador, Barillon, who 
had come to the palace to inquire after the King, paid her a visit. He 
found her in an agony of sorrow. She took him into a secret room and 
poured out her whole heart to him. ' I have,' she said, ' a thing of great 
moment to tell jow. If it were known, my head would be in danger. The 
King is really and truly a Catholic ; but he will die without being recon- 
ciled to the Church. His bed-chamber is full of Protestant clergymen. I 
cauTiot enter it without giving scandal. The duke is thinking only of him- 
self. Speak to him. Remind him that there is a soul at stake. He is 
master now. He can clear the room. Go this instant, or it will too late.' 



tude which did not seem to belong to his — Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 403. 

soft and luxurious nature. The sight of i Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 404. 

his misery affected his wife so much that 2 At one time the Duchess was so 

she fainted, and was carried senseless to unpopular among the people she could not 

her chamber. The prelates who were in appear in the street without the danger of 

waiting had from the first exhorted him to being mobbed. It was not so with all the 

prepare for his end. They now thought it King's mistresses. Nell Gwinn's carriage 

their duty to address him in a still more being once mistaken for the Duchess of 

urgent manner. William Sancroft, arch- Portsmouth's, the crowd would have broken 

bishop of Canterbury, an honest and pious, it to pieces ; but she saved herself, . and 

though narrow minded man, used great changed their groans into acclamations, by 

freedom.' ' It is time,' he said, * to speak putting her head out of the window and 

out; for, sir, you are about to appear crying out, " You are mistaken good folks ; 

before a Judge who is no respecter of per- I am the Protestant w ." Hume says, 

sons.' The Eling answered not a word. "The King's favorite was Mrs. Palmer, 

Thomas Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells, afterwards created Duchess of Cleveland ; 

then tried his powers of persuasion." a woman prodigal, rapacious, dissolute, 

* * * " Of all the prelates the King violent, revengeful." She undermined 

liked Ken the best." He was eloquent in Clarendon's credit with the King. 
his exhortations but Charles was unmoved. 



384 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Barillon hastened to the bed-chamber, took the duke aside, and delivered 
the messao-e of the mistress. The conscience of James smote him. He 
started as if roused from sleep, and declared that nothing should prevent 
him from discharging the sacred duty which had been so long delayed. He 
commanded the crowd to stand aloof, went to the bed, stooped down, and 
whispered something which none of the spectators could hear, but which 
they supposed to be some question about affairs of state. Charles 
answered in an audible voice, — ' Yes, yes, with all my heart.' None 
of the bystanders, except the French ambassador, guessed that the 
King was declaring his wish to be admitted into the bosom of the Church 
of Rome. ' Shall I bring a priest?' said the duke. ' Do, brother,' replied 
the sick man. ' For God's sake do, and lose no time. But no ; you will 
get into trouble.' ' If it costs me my life,' said the duke, ' I will fetch a 
priest.' " * * * " The duke's orders were obeyed ; and even the physi-' 
cians withdrew. The back door was then opened and Father Huddleston 
entered. A cloak had been thrown over his sacred vestments, and his 
shaven crown was concealed by a flowing wig. 'Sir' said the duke, ' this 
good man once saved your life. He now comes to save 5-our soul.' " ^ 

Even his guilty companion in sin, with no fear of death for herself, but 
with a nominal piety that had existed in profession but not reduced to 
practice ; with a solemn dread of death to one whose secrets she had 
known but whose acts had been in defiance of the teachings of her Holy 
Religion, — was suddenly seized with feelings of horror and despair, — when 
she saw that his spirit was about to return to God, associated with her own 
infam}', and without those indispensable guards and consolations of the 
Church — in which she believed, but which she had dishonored. 

The announcement of the King's death was received with painful con- 
sternation. A guilty King had died at the head of a wicked nation,— and 
party strife for a moment was hushed by the looks and language of super- 
stitious awe. That such a King could die a peaceful death, and not hj the 
hand of the assassin, seemed impossible. Rumor explained the death a 
thousand different wa^s, not one of which was true, and all of which were 
believed b}- some.^ 



1 Hist, of England, Vol. 1, pp. 405, 407. number were repeated and believed by the 

2 " At that time," says Macaulay, "the common people. His majesty's tongue had 
common people throughout Europe, and no swelled to the size of a neat's tongue. A 
where more than in England, were in the cake of deleterious powder had been found 
habit of attributing the deaths of princes, in his brain. There were blue spots on his 
especially when the prince was popular and breast. There were black spots on his 
the death unexpected, to the foulest and shoulder. Something had been put into 
darkest kind of assassination." After his snufF box. Something had been put 
reviewing such rumors, from time to time, into his broth. Something had been put 
in England, Macaulay adds, " We cannot, into his favorite dish of eggs and amber- 
therefore, wonder that wild stories without gris. The Duchess of Portsmouth had 



/ 
CHARLES THE SECOND. 385 

The reign of Charles the Second is not only distinguished by the dis- 
graceful and humiliating events of profligacy and corruption, — but the 
outlines of political parties were fully developed in all their definite and 
indefinite varieties. " Things were so entangled," sa3^s Algernon Sidney-, 
" that liberty of language was almost lost, and no man knew how to speak 
of anything lest he that was spoken unto might be of a party contrar}- to 
him, and that endeavored to overthrow what he would set up." i "It was 
during this political chaos," speaking of the same period, says Cooke, " that 
the part}^ words, Whig and Tory, were struck out, and that definite titles 
were thus imposed upon principles and parties which had some time existed." 
He commits a grave error, however, when he says, — " The latter part 
of the reign of Charles the Second, is an epoch whence we ma^^ date not 
onl}^ the rise of the Whig and Tory parties, but also the origin of the 
principles which they severally'' profess." These parties, under different 
names, have always existed, and have been influenced by the same princi- 
ples. Principles are eternal, and are in no way dependent either on the 
thoughts or acts of men, or of society. He shows a better judgment when 
he quotes with commendation the definitions of these two parties, given by 
Lord Bolingbroke. This eloquent writer, who cannot be accused of undue 
partiality for democracy, says, — 

" The power and majesty of the people, an original contract, the author- 
ity and independency of parliaments, libertj^, resistance, exclusion, abdica- 
tion, deposition ; these were ideas associated at that time, with the idea of 
a Whig, and supposed b}^ every Whig to be incommunicable, and incon- 
sistent with the idea of a Tory. 

" Divine, hereditar^^, and indefeasible right, lineal succession, passive 
obedience, prerogative, non-resistance, slavery, na}', and sometimes Popery 
too, were associated in many minds to the idea of a Tor}^, and deemed 
incommunicable, and inconsistent in the same manner, with the idea of a 
Whig."=' 

All political parties occasionally deviate from their standard of principle, 
but generally with questionable motives. When they submit to be influ- 
enced by considerations of expedienc}', they are careful to provide a way 
for a speed}^ return to their favorite theories, and not to interfere with 
those general tendencies, frequently without a name, and which are the 
natural results of their peculiar systems of influence ^and control. The 



poisoned him in a cup of chocolate. The wliich eagerly devoured them." — Hist, of 

queen had poisoned him in a jar of dried England, Vol. i, pp. 409, 410, 411. 

pears. Such tales ought to be preserved, i Letter to Farley, 

for they furnish us with a measure of the 2 Dissertation on. ^Parties,. p. 5i. 
intelligence and virtue of the generation 

25 



386 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

reign of Charles was the reign of the Tory party, subject onl}^ to these 
exceptions of expediencj'. This party is ever ready to seize with unscru- 
pulous avidity whatever is available to perpetuate its devious course, and 
to accept from its opponents all apparent aids however uncertain, or how- 
ever absurd. Though democrac}^ is regarded b}' the Tories with professed 
abhorrence, yet, they do not hesitate to appeal to the people with a show of 
popular zeal as if the}^ believed them to be the source of all power, and 
that equality and toryism are synonymous terms. 

When the King of France had conclusive evidence that the King and 
Court of England, the Tor}^ part}', aided by his monc}', and by his plotting 
ministers and seductive women — were altogether unable to control political 
events according to his ambitious purposes, he did not hesitate to approach 
both democrats and republicans with assurances of party neutrality and 
popular sj^mpathy. Barillon, Rouvigny, Colbert, Courtin, the Duchess of 
Orleans — lost no opportunity in pointing out to their ro3'al master the 
strong men of England, the democratic leaders of the people. Thej had 
no conceptions of party character above the artful intrigues of political 
cabals. It was a redeeming feature of their judgment, however, that they 
recognized integrity as the most important element of moral strength. In 
a letter to Louis, dated Dec. 14, 1679, Barillon writes, — "I have at all 
times taken great care to manage Lord Holies, and I believe I have kept him 
in very favorable sentiments for your majesty's interests. He is the man of 
all England for whom the different cabals have the most consideration. He 
is respected by all parties, but principallj^ b}' the Presbyterians. Nothing 
did me so much service with him as the offer I made him on 3^our majesty's 
part of a box with your picture set with diamonds." ^ It is difficult to say 
what this service could be, when he admits that although he pressed him 
many times " to accept the box," he always excused himself. He wanted 
no jewelled corruption about his person.^ In the same letter he speaks of 
Lj'ttleton as " one of the most considerable in the House of Commons," 
and of Powle, as a man " fit to fill one of the first posts of England, very 
eloquent and very able." Also, of Sidney ^^ as a man who was in the first 
wars, and who is naturally an enemy to the court,** and " that he had 
always appeared to have the same sentiments, and not to have changed 
maxims." When he attempts to prove Sidney capable of being useful to 
France at the expense of England, however, he undertakes a difficult task. 



1 Dalrymple's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 319. make him accept it; I don't presume she 

2 In the same letter, Barillon says, — will be so difficult as he has been." The 
** If your Majesty thinks I ought again to box was afterwards given to Lord St. 
press Lord Holies to accept the box of dia- Albans. — Balrymple, Vol. ii, pp. 322, 392. 
. mends, I may by means of Lady Holies 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 



387 



" Every one," says Cooke, " who is at all conversant with the principal 
events of Sidney's life, or has read any part of his correspondence,^ must 
at once see that such conduct as this is the most inconsistent with his 
general character of any that could be attributed to him." In his letter to 
Louis, Barillon saj's, " Mr. Sidney has been of great service to me on 
many occasions." * * * "I gave him onl}^ what 3'our Majesty per- 
mitted me. He would willingly have had more, and if a new gratification 
was given him, it would be easy to engage him entire]}-." ^ 

In defence of Sidney and others against these charges, Cooke says, — 
*' the question becomes one of credit between Barillon and the leaders of 
the Whig party." In speaking of Sidne}^, Barillon furnishes evidence 
against his own assertions. He testifies to his great force and openness of 
character, and in one of his dispatches to Louis, Sept. 1680, says, " it 
appears that Mr. Sidney's public objects in these intrigues were a republic, 
and the most unlimited toleration of religion." s Again, in a letter, Dec. 
5th, he speaks of him as " a man of great views and very high designs, 
which tend to the establishment of a republic." ^ These opinions of Sidney 
prevailed wherever he was known, and they are utterly inconsistent with 



1 When his father gave hira hopes of 
return from exile, Sidney said, in reply, '^ I 
confess, we are naturally inclined to delight 
in our own country, and I have a particular 
love for mine. I hope I have given some 
testimony of it. I think that being exiled 
from it is a great evil, and would redeem 
myself from it with the loss of a great deal 
of my blood. But when that country of 
mine, which used to be esteemed a para- 
dise, is now like to be made a stage of 
injury ; the liberty which we hoped to estab- 
lish oppressed ; luxury and lewdness set up 
in its height ; the best of our nation made a 
prey to the worst ; the parliament, court, 
and army corrupted ; the people enslaved ; 
all things vendible; no man safe but by 
Buch evil and infamous means as flattery 
and bribery; what joy can I have in my 
own country in this condition? Is it a 
pleasure to see all that I love in the world is 
sold and destroyed? Shall I renounce all 
my old principles, learn the vile court 
arts, and make my peace by bribing 
some of them. Shall their corruption and 
vice be my safety? Ah, no ! better is a life 
among strangers, than in my own country 
upon such conditions. Whilst I live I will 



endeavor to preserve my liberty, or at least 
not consent to the destroying of it I hope 
I shall die in the same principles in which 
I have lived, and will live no longer than 
they can preserve me. I have in my life 
been guilty of many follies, but, I think, of 
no meanness. I will not blot and defile 
that which is past, by endeavoring to pro- 
vide for the future. I have ever had in 
my mind, that when God should cast me 
into such a condition, as that I cannot save 
my life but by doing an indecent thing, he 
shows me the time is come when I should 
resign it." And, again, "It is usual to 
destroy those that will not be corrupted : I 
could expect no less. Whatsoever my 
fortune is, I hope I shall show unto your 
lordship that I am not capable of base com- 
pliance with fortune, in relation to any 
person whatever, nor an indecent action, 
and before I swerve from this rule I hope 
God will put an end unto my life." — Blen- 
cow^s Sidney Papers, p. 223. Jlist. of 
Party, Vol. i, p. 126. 

2 The sum given him, it was asserted, was 
1000 guineas. 

3 Dalrymple, Vol. ii, pp. 351, 382. 

4 Dalrymple, Vol. ii, pp. 351, 382. 



3SS HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

ail}' supposition that he would be likely to accept bribes from Tories to aid 
him in his schemes of republicanism which they detested. For these opin- 
ions, always boldly expressed, he was banished. Although Charles, at an 
earlj' period, was indebted to him for his life, and called him " a man of 
principle and judgment, yet, he counted him a dangerous political enemy." 
In a letter to Louis, dated Aug. 4, 1670, Colbert saj^s, — " The King 
(Charles) said to me again, that he did not care whether Sidney lived in 
Paris, Languedoc, or any other place he pleased, provided he did not return 
to England, where, said he, his pernicious sentiments, supported with so 
great parts and courage, might do much hurt." And later, — " that it was 
proper to let him return to Languedoc, and that he could not be too far 
from England."! In a letter to the Prince of Orange, dated Dec. 4, 1683, 
the Duke of York saj^s, — " As for news here, Algernon Sidney, is to be 
beheaded on Friday next on the Tower-hill, which besides the doing justice 
on so ill a man, will give the lie to the Whigs, who reported he was not to 
suffer." ^ In another to the same, Dec. 7th, he writes, " Algernon Sidney 
was beheaded this day, died very resolutely, and like a true rebel and 
republican." ^ If he had been false to the Whigs by serving the Tories, 
where is the evidence of their complaint and indignation at his treachery 
to their cause ? If he served the Tories with great acceptance, as Barillon 
asserts, where is the evidence of their denunciations of his ingratitude for 
their pecuniary favors, and why did they take his life ? These questions 
are sufficiently answered by the logic of probabilities without corroborative 
testimony. Government emissaries are generall}" inclined to destroj' what 
they cannot master. The exculpator}^ suggestion of Hallam, " that the 
opposition agreed together to receive these gifts from France rather than 
offend their new all}^ or excite any suspicion of their sincerit}^," increases 
the difficult3\ For in what way could they be sincere without giving 
offence, or, how could Louis be an ally to England except to traitors ? 
When Barillon included in his debasing catalogue such names as Hampden, 
Russell, Lyttleton, Holies, Powle and Sidnej", his credibility must be exam- 
ined by his own standard of principle. He was the paid agent of a dis- 
honest monarch, and his success depended upon skilful deception. If 
he could not compromise patriotic opponents the least he could do for the 
cause of his master would be to misrepresent them. The acknowledged 
motives of men determine their standing and character. What more 
enduring monument to democracy than the character of Russell? It rose 
above the power of the strongest monarch in the world, the persuasive 
tongue of enchanting woman, and it could not be moved by the potent force 



1 Dalrymple, Vol. ii, Appendix, p. 75. ^ Ibid^ p* 66. 

2 Ibid, p. 65. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 389 

of money. If this influence swayed its enemies, what ought to be its influence 
when truly honored by its friends ? When Lord Russell had been convicted 
of high treason by a packed jury and condemned to the block,^ great efforts 
were made to induce him publicly to acknowledge the doctrine of non-resist- 
ance. This he modestly but firmly refused to do. When Lord Dartmouth, 
a most devoted tory, begged for his life, and dwelt upon his exalted char- 
acter, his known virtues and extensive popularit}^, the King replied, — "All 
that is verj' true, but it is equally true that if I do not take his life he will 
have mine." ^ The favorite mistress of the King was made the medium of 
an offer from his father, the Duke of Bedford, of £100,000 for the life of 
Russell. In his answer he committed a double crime — by joining an eva- 
sion of sacred duty with false professions of democracy. "I will not," 
said he, " sell my own and my people's blood at such a price." When 
Barillon told him that Louis had written to him a letter asking the life of 
Russell, and that the younger Rouvigny was on his v/ay to deliver it, the 
King replied, " I do not wish to prevent Monsieur Rouvigny from coming 
here, but my Lord Russell's head will be off before he arrives." 

But the greatest effrontery of the Tory part}^, from the crowned heads of 
Louis and Charles to the humblest of their followers, — is to be found in its 
shameless dissimulation. In Barillon's letter to Louis, from which quota- 
tions have already been made, he speaks boldly to Lord Holies of the pat- 
riotic motives of Louis. He says, " I have told him (Holies) in general 
that your Majestj^ will never enter into au}^ engagement with his Britannic 
Majesty which might be prejudicial to the liberties and privileges of the 
English."^ In 1679, he wrote him, " that the power of Charles by the fac- 
tions of his dominions is entirely sunk," and " that it is better to continue 
to court the heads of parties in order to continue his difficulties." ^ " While 
Louis was endeavoring to raise commotions," says Dalr3'mple, " by means of 
the Duke of York, dreading the session of a new parliament, he gave orders 
to Barillon, Nov. 15, 1680, before it met, to tempt the King with a money 
treaty, on the one hand, and to intrigue with the popular party on the 
other." ^ In the same letter he ordered Barillon "to encourage the Duke of 
York to make a stand in Scotland, to assure the republican party in parlia- 
ment, that he would protect the privileges of the nation." On the 23d, he 
writes " to encourage Charles to follow a firm and bold conduct to his sub- 
jects in his present situation." On Dec. 13th, he expresses " his satisfaction 



1 "There is no doubt whatever," gays just penalties due to treason. He deemed 

Cooke, " that this jury was packed by North the execution of Kussell a triumph over the 

under the direction of Burton and Graham, Whigs, 

solicitors for the crown," 3 Dalrymple, Vol. ii, p. 324. 

^ The King did not fear violence. He * Ibid, p. 258. 

feared the triumph of the Whig party — the 5 Ibid, p. 341. 



390 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

at the divisions in England, and orders him to assure the republican party 
that it is not his intention to suffer their liberties to be hurt." Other des- 
patches followed, showing — "in a strong light," saj's Dalrymple, "the dis- 
tracted state of the kingdom, and that versatilit}^ of politics by which Louis 
the XlVth, accommodating his conduct to the variation of circumstances, 
played at that time the king and parliament against each other, deceiving 
both separatel}^, while he pretended to be a friend to both separately/' ^ 

To have a clear idea of tory principles as developed by the events in the 
reign of Charles the Second, it is necessar}^ to read the parliamentary dis- 
cussions on the Indemnit}^ Act, the Exclusion Bill, the Test Act, the Kiglits 
of Petition, and the Freedom of London, — the party Declarations of the 
University of Cambridge, the proceedings of the London Grand Jury res- 
pecting Lord Shaftesbmy, — and the enunciation of Toryism, — an extraor- 
dinary document issued by the University of Oxford, entitled — " The Judg- 
ment and Decree of the University of Oxford^ passed in their Convocation, 
July 21, 1683, against certain pernicious books and damnable doctrines 
destructive to the sacred persons of princes, their state and government, and of 
all human society.'' 

While the Commons were discussing the question — May 17, 1675 — "That 
no Bill be brought in or received, but such as are already ordered to be 
brought in, or shall be sent down from the Lords, until after the recess 
mentioned in his majesty's speech," the famous Non-Resisting Test Act was 
introduced into the House of Lords. This Bill was entitled " An Act to 
prevent the Dangers which may arise from Persons disaffected to the Gov- 
ernment." ^ " The grand push," says Ralph, " was made in the House 
of Lords, to disarm disaffection and republicanism, according to the roj^al- 
ists ; or, according to the patriots, to extinguish the last spark of English 
liberty. The expedient which was to facilitate this mighty event, and 
•which was the joint product of all the subtilty that the schools, the bar, 
the court, could furnish, was contained in an oath which was prescribed." By 
this Bill, all members of the legislature, and all who held any public office, 
whether civil, militarj^ , or ecclesiastical, were obliged, under a penalty of 
£500, to take an extraordinary oath, which had already been enjoined, in a 
modified form, by an act passed while the Commons were yet eager in their 
lo3^alty. This oath consisted of a declaration, that it was not lawful, upon 
any pretence whatever, to take up arms against the King ; and that the 



1 Dalrymple, Vol. ii, p. 341. April and May, 1675, concerning a Ml 

2 After tlie session a Pamphlet was pub- entitled, 'An Act, etc.,' as given in 
lished, by John Locke, entitled — "A Letter the text." The document may be found 
from a person of quality to his friend in the Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, No. v of the Appen- 
country, giving an account of the Debates dix. 

and Resolutions in the House of Lords, in 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 



391 



person taking it abhorred that traitorous position of taking arms, by his 
authority, against his person, or against those commissioned by him, in 
pursuance of any commission ; and that he would not, at any time, endeavor 
the alteration of government, either in church or state.^ 

" The Earl of Danby," ssljs Cooke, " was the minister who originated 
this infamous attempt to render the dogma of passive obedience a part of 
the English Constitution, and to fetter even the members of the legislature. 
The freedom of debate was, indeed, reserved, but the ministry did not hesi- 
tate to avow that it was their intention to restrain them from speaking or 
writing upon affairs of state without the walls of their several houses. 
This Bill passed the House of Lords, and but for the energy and ingenuity 
of Shaftesbury it would have passed the Commons." ^ 

Hampden was not alone in the opinion that the Exclusion Bill^ was not a 
religious test, but purely a political question between the Whigs and Tories. 
Party lines were deeply drawn from the narrow confines of arbitrary power 
to the wide range of democratic freedom. The Whigs rested their cause 
with man in his strength, as influenced by God, the Tories rested theirs 
with God as influenced by man in his weakness. In the House of Com- 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, p. 714. History 
of Party, Vol. i, p. 23. 

2 Ibid, p. 24. 

3 On the loth of May, 1679, this impor- 
tant bill was brought into the House of 
Commons, and read a first time. After 
detailing the particulars of the Popish plot 
it set forth, "That the emissaries, priests, 
and agents of the Pope, had traitorously 
seduced James, Duke of York, presump- 
tive heir to these crowns, to the communion 
to the church of Eome, and had induced 
him to enter into several negotiations with 
the Pope, his cardinals, nuncios, for pro- 
moting the Romish Church and interest; 
and by this means and procurement had 
advanced the power and greatness of the 
Prench King to the manifest hazard of these 
Kingdoms. That by descent of these 
crowns upon a Papist, and by foreign alli- 
ances and assistance, they might be able to 
succeed in their wicked and villainous 
designs." After further preamble, the bill 
proceeded to enact : — 

I. *' That the said James, Duke of York, 
should be incapable of inheriting the crowns 
of England, Scotland, and Ireland, with their 
dependencies ; and of enjoying any of the 



titles, rights, prerogatives and revenues 
belonging to the said crowns. 

II. " That in case his Majesty should 
happen to die, or resign his dominions, they 
should devolve to the person next in suc- 
cession in the same manner as if the duke 
was dead. 

III. "That all acts of sovereignty and 
royalty that prince might then happen to 
perform, were not only to be declared void, 
but to be high treason, and punishable as 
such. 

IV. " That if any one, at any time 
whatsoever, should endeavor to bring the 
said duke into any of the forementioned 
dominions, or correspond with him, in order 
to make him inherit, he should be guilty of 
high treason. 

V. "That if the duke himself ever 
returned into any of these dominions, 
considering the mischief that must ensue, he 
should be looked upon as guilty of the same 
offence; and all persons were authorized 
and required to seize upon and imprison 
him ; and, in case of resistance made by 
him or his adherents, to subdue them by 
force of arms." — See Pari. Deh.f Vol. iy. 
ffist. of Party, Vol. i, p. 92. 



392 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

mons, Oct. 1G80, Col. Birch made a forcible speech upon this Bill, from 
"which the following is an extract : — " Our legislative power is unbounded, 
and we may offer to the lords, and so to his majestj^, what Bills we think 
good. And it can as little be doubted, that the legislative power of the 
nation, King, Lords, and Commons, should want a law to make laws ; or 
that any laws should be against what laws they make ; otherwise they can- 
not be legally opposed." * * * '' ^e may as well think of catching a 
lion with a mouse-trap, as to secure ourselves against Popery without the 
Exclusion Bill." ^ The Bill was defended by Col. Titus, Lord Russell, Sir 
Henr}^ Capel, John Hampden, Sir Wm. Pulteu}^, and others. It was earn- 
estly opposed b}^ the Tories as a matter of course. Sir Leoline Jenkins 
considered the Bill as " contrary to natural justice," making it a personal 
question to the Duke of York, and moved " to throw it out." He did not 
attempt to disguise the Tory theor}^ of government, nor to conceal his fears 
of democracy. He said, — " I am of opinion, that the Kings of England 
have their right from God alone ; and that no power on earth can deprive 
them of it. And I hope that this house will not attempt to do anything, 
which is so precisely contrary, not only to the law of God, but the law of 
the land too. For if this Bill should pass, it would change the essence of 
the monarch}', and make the crown elective." ^ In speaking of Jenkins, 
Dr. Burnet says, — " he was set on every punctilio of the Church of Eng- 
land to superstition, and was a great assertor of the Divine Right of mon- 
arch}', and was for carrying the Prerogative high. All his speeches and 
arguments against the Exclusion were heard with indignation." The Bill 
was rapidly passed by the Commons, but rejected by the House of Lords 
by a vote of sixty-three to thirt}^ The debate was so interesting that the 
Commons adjourned their house to be present at it, and so important, that 
the King remained the whole day in the house to discountenance its advo- 
cates, and to give confidence to its opponents.^ To prevent the passage of 
the bill — the King sent a message giving assurances " that all remedies 
they could tender him against Popery would be acceptable to him, provided 
they were such as might consist with preserving the succession of the 
crown in all its legal course of descent." It is probable that he would at 
this time have submitted to any limitations or restrictions — to anj^hing 
but absolute exclusion. ^ Although the bill did not become a law, time 
soon demonstrated that the apprehensions of danger expressed by the 
Whigs — were not without just foundations. But Tory success is tempo- 
rary, only nominal. The halcyon days of the party are in the deceptive 
promises of the future — which are never redeemed. The present does not 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, p. 1132. 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 153. 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, p. 1190. 4 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 154. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. ^ 393 

satisfj'. When the power of Charles had become nearly absolute, (1681) 
the Tories said, " Now we begin to have a prospect of halc3'on daj^s." ^ To 
keep alive the peculiar spirit of 103'alty which he imagined he saw, and 
which was so necessary to his fictitious courage, — the King published a 
declaration of his reasons for dissolving his two last parliaments, and 
attempted to defend his usurpations. "After reckoning up all the points of 
opposition," saj^s Cooke, " in which he had been foiled by the vigilance of 
the Commons, he, however, concludes by assuring his people with deliber- 
ate falsehood, ' that nothing should ever alter his affection to the Protestant 
religion as established by law, nor his love to parliaments, for he would still 
have frequent parliaments.' " ^ This declaration was ably answered b}- the 
joint labors of Algernon Sidnej^, Sir Wm. Jones, and Mr. (afterwards Lord) 
Somers, which answer was pronounced by Ralph as the most judicious and 
important document ever put forth by the Whig party .^ 

The attempt to influence the Grand Jury to find a Bill against Lord 
Shaftesbury, for high treason, was an interesting party struggle, and it 
ended in a democratic victory .4 When the indictment was returned by the 
jury indorsed " Ignoramus" ^ the announcement was received by the 
people, who "thronged all the avenues to the court," with bursts of 
applause. " The acclamations," saj^s Cooke, " were caught up outside, and 
for an hour the air rang with plaudits of the assembled multitude. The 
citizens indulged in excess of J03', and as it grew dark, bonfires 
throughout and around the city notified the escape of the destined victim, 
and the triumph of the people." The event was commemorated by a medal, 
bearing the bust and title of Shaftesbury, and on the reverse, a sun 
obscured by a cloud rising over the tower and city of London, the date of 
the reception of the bill, and the motto, " L^tamur." This medal was 
skilfully prepared and multiplied by an artist, and became for a time the 
party badge of the Whigs throughout the kingdom. The notorious fact 
that there was no evidence whatever to convict Shaftesbury of being the 
author of a treasonable paper, organizing an association to resist the acces- 
sion of a Popish King, rendered the Tories desperate. Addresses to the 
king were made by the University of Cambridge, of the Inner Temple, the 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 192. made, and the concourse of people assem- 

2 Ibid, Vol. i, p. 192. bled, sufficiently marked this trial to be an 

3 It is printed in Pari. Deb. , Vol. iv, in important party struggle. See Hist, of 
the Appendix, p. cxxxiv. Par^y, Vol. i, p. 212. 

* On the 24th of November, the grand ^ Jf^re are ignorant." This is the term 

jury returned by the Whig Sheriflf, but con- used when the Grand Jury reject the evi- 

sisting of some of the most eminent mer- dence as too weak to make good the indict- 

chants and citizens of London, took this ment. 
bill into consideration. The preparations 



894 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Middle Temple, and b}' others, — urging Mm " to proceed to remove all 
those obstructions which have or may prevent the bringing of disaffected 
and evil men to suffer that exemplar}^ justice they have most notoriously 
deserved." The language of some of these addresses was so servile and 
insolent that they were disowned by many of the most respectable of the 
Tor}' party. Sidney spoke of them " as mere noise, signifying nothing." 
Burnet sajs, — " they were generally believed to be penned by the clerg}^, 
among whom the duke's health was always drunk with shouts and hurrahs, 
to which another health — ' To the confusion of his enemies,' was commonly 
added." 

It is an interesting fact that most of the large cities of free countries are 
democratic. This has been true of England. The King looked upon such 
cities as dangerous to his rule, and his party counsellors were quite ready to 
favor any process for their reduction that promised success. London was 
too great a power to be left to its freedom, when that power was made 
manifest in promoting the noble spirit of democracy. The Tory attack 
upon the liberties of this great city is admirably given by Cooke,^ from 
which the following extracts are made : — " The cit}^ of London hath hither- 
to stood firm and unassailable, high above the reach of the flood of royal 
wrath which swept around it and overbore every meaner barrier ; but now 
this last stronghold of liberty was to be destroyed." * * * "Charles 
usually had recourse to his lawyers for some plausible disguise for a pro- 
jected injustice. Upon this occasion they were not wanting either in zeal 
or ingenuit}'. Sanders, the most profound lawyer and the most profligate 
man at the bar, was the author of a new doctrine of law, that the slightest 
irregularity in the proceedings of a corporation worked a forfeiture of their 
charter." * * * " During the contests between the petitioners and 
abhorrers, the city had presented a strong petition 2 for the meeting of 
parliament, and they had imposed a trifling tax upon sellers resorting to the 
public markets, in order to defra}' the debt they had incurred in rebuilding 
them after the fire. These were the two delinquencies charged upon the 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 223. take the alarm." A petition was presented 

2 This petition is printed in the Soraers' to his majesty reciting the important ques- 
Tracts, Vol. viii, p. 144. tions still pending before parliament, and 

When the plague raged in London and praying that its session may be continued 

Westminster, in 1665, the fifth session of till they had acted upon all the great affairs 

the Second Parliament wiis held at Oxford, before them. To this petition the King 

In 1680, when Parliament was engaged in gave answer, — "It was none of their busi- 

passing resolutions severely condemning ness." In less than a week, Jan. 18, 1680 — 

the unlawful course of the King, and were he issued a proclamation dissolving parlia- 

suddenly summoned by the usher of the ment, and summoned a new one to meet at 

black-rod to hear " their sentence of proro- Oxford on the 21st of March. 



gation, the city of London was the first to 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 395 

city." * * * " The authorities of the city were accordingly served 
with a writ of quo warranto — a process which required them to appear 
before the court of the King's Bench, and sliow by what authority 
they exercised the functions of the offices they claimed to hold. More 
than a year was consumed after the preliminary proceedings. When the 
case grew ripe for argument, the king found it necessary to make some 
alterations in the bench of judges by whom it was to be tried." Honest 
judges were dismissed, and obedient ones appointed to fill their places. 
" The preliminaries being thus adjusted, and the bench judiciously packed, 
early in 1683 the case came on for argument. Finch and Sawyer on 
behalf of the crown, conducted the contest with an ingenuity which all 
lawyers admire ; but Treby and Pollexfen in reply, adduced argument and 
authority by which none but a corrupted tribunal could fail to be con- 
vinced. On the 12th of June the court were assembled to give judgment, 
which was pronounced. It was, that a corporation aggregate might be 
seized ; that the tax levied by virtue of the bj'-law was extortion, and a 
forfeiture of the franchise of being a corporation ; that the petition was 
scandalous and libellous, and the making it and publishing it a forfeiture ; 
that the act of the common council was the act of the corporation ; that no 
cause had been shown to excuse or avoid these forfeitures ; that therefore the 
information had been well founded ; and therefore that the franchise 
should be seized into the King's hands." * * * u Thus fell the 
privileges of the city of London. The entry of the judgment was, upon 
the motion of the attorney general, respited until the king's pleasure should 
be known." * * * " Charks was contented to await the submission, 
which he doubted not this exhibition of his power would produce." He was 
not disappointed. He made his conditions known, and as the people 
could not resist — the}^ were unconditionall}^ accepted. So long as the 
king's life was spared — he could pack the London and Middlesex juries 
with the same facility as he could those of the other parts of his kingdom. 
As this is a most important chapter in the history of party — the reader 
will be amply compensated by persuing the entire account from which these 
brief outlines are made. 

Before dismissing the subject of the reign of this monarch, particular atten- 
tion is asked to an extraordinary fact which should not be omitted in any 
sketch of this period. On the day that Eussell suffered death, the Univer- 
sity of Oxford published, what was equivalent to a formal renunciation of 
the liberties of England. It is a decree which is a negative assertion of 
the principles of party. This enunciation of Toryism, from so high author- 
ity, is too important a document to be forgotten, and it is placed at length 
in the Appendix.^ Oxford was the great stronghold of Toryism. That 

1 See Appendix, D, 



396 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

educated intellect and the preachers of Christianit}- should favor arbitrary 
power is a subject 3'et to be explained. 

It has been seen that the life of Charles was no honor to royaltj-, and of no 
direct benefit to the nation. With this lesson in view, let the inquiry be 
extended to his successor, James the Second. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 

In some respects it was a privilege to be the immediate successor of 
Charles the Second. He did but little to give peace and security to his 
people, but much to dishonor and to humble their pride. If he left no exam- 
ples worth}" to be followed, it is certain that no one could be at a loss as to 
what examples should be avoided. It was easy to excel his virtues even 
if it was difficult to avoid his vices. There was nothing in his record cal- 
culated to stimulate a commendable ambition, nothing to excite emy, or to 
challenge capacit3\ He discovered no love of principle to give confidence 
to patriotism, nor of integrity to warrant hopes of success. He was 
indifferent to pride and common decency. It is a charitable aphorism of 
Joubert that, '' In good times we are better than ourselves ; in bad times, 
worse." If it be permitted that Charles should share the benefit of so 
benevolent a sentiment, it cannot be denied that James is entitled, in some 
degree to share it with him. '' Austerities and mortifications are means by 
which the mind is invigorated and roused," says Dr. Johnson, " by which 
the attractions of pleasure are interrupted, and the chains of sensuality are 
broken." To use such means implies a proper sense of duty. The differ- 
ent characters of the two brothers were well and wittily described by 
Buckingham, wdien he said " that Charles could see things rightly if he 
would, and James would if he could." ^ James enjoyed the benefits of 
leisure and opportunity to observe and study the conduct of Charles. He 
knew of his crimes and heard them denounced, and of his errors and heard 
them lamented. To suppose that he himself did not condemn them is to 
suppose him incapable of honest judgment. And yet, in his first speech to 
his privj^-council, he said, " Since it hath pleased Almighty God to place 
me in this station, and I am now to succeed so gracious a King, as well as 
so kind a brother, I think it fit to declare to j^ou, that I will endeavor to 
follow his example, and most especially in that of his great clemency and 
tenderness to his people." ^ It was a time to prepare the plough, if not to 
turn up the ground. It could not be supposed that he was utterly indiflfer- 
ent to fame, or ignorant of the means to secure it. Much less, could it be 
supposed that one who was entitled to the crown would prepare for himself 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 11. 2 Pari. Deb., Vol. iv, p. 1342. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 



397 



SO unenviable a place in history as that marked by Hesiod, in his celebra- 
ted distribution of mankind. He divides them into three orders of intel- 
lect, and James would be placed in the third — if anywhere. " The first 
place," says he, " belongs to him that can by his own powers, discern what 
is right and fit, and penetrate to the remoter motives of action. The second 
is claimed by him that is willing to hear instruction, and can perceive right 
and wrong when the}^ are shown him by another ; but he that has neither 
acuteness nor docility', who can neither find the way by himself nor will 
be led by others, is a wretch without use or value." Besides, James was well 
aware of the prevailing doubts respecting his own character and opinions, 
and he had a double motive not only to avoid the errors of his brother — but 
to see that he committed none himself. He ascended the throne with high 
professions of duty, and promised all that could be asked. ^ His assur- 
ances were accepted in good faith, and it was a subject of general congrat- 
ulation that if the nation had been cursed by Charles it was about to be 
blessed by James. The peaceful Quakers were moved to manifest their res- 
pect for him, and to ask for themselves, as dissenters, the same respect and 
protection that he, as a papist, would have to ask for himself.^ He 
claimed no prerogative above law, he asserted no spiritual control above that 
of the Protestant Church. He disclaimed all disposition to favor arbitrar}^ 
rul^ and was quite content to be satisfied with the glor^^ of being kiug.^ It 



1 In his first speech to his council he 
said, " I have been reported to be a man 
for arbitrary power, but that is not the only- 
story that has been made of me ; and I shall 
make it my endeavor to preserve this gov- 
ernment both in Church and State, as it 
is now bylaw established." * * * "I 
know too, that the laws of England are 
sufficient to make the King as great a 
monarch as I can wish; and as I shall 
never depart from the just right and pre- 
rogative of the crown, so I shall never 
invade any man's property." — Pari. Deb.y 
Vol. IV, p. 1342. 

2 Macaulay says *' The first use" which 
William Penn made of his credit (at the 
Court of James) was highly commend- 
able. He strongly represented the suffer- 
ings of the Quakers to the new King, who 
saw with pleasure that it was possible to 
grant indulgence to these quiet sectaries and 
to the Roman Catholics without showing 
similar favor to other classes which were 
then under persecution. A list was framed 



of persons against whom proceedings had 
been instituted for not taking the oaths, or 
for not going to church, and of those whose 
loyalty certificates had been produced to 
the government. These persons were dis- 
charged, and orders were given that no 
similar proceeding should be instituted till 
the royal pleasure should be further signi- 
fied. In this way about fifteen hundred 
Quakers, and a still greater number of 
Roman Catholics, regained their liberty." — 
Hist, of Eng., Vol. i, p. 472. 

3 This speech was loyally published 
throughout the nation. The Tories received 
the assurance with unbounded confidence. 
" We have now the word of a King, and a 
word never yet broken," was the comment- 
ary which proceeded from every pulpit. 
Loyal addresses immediately surrounded 
the throne. Oxford, true to her declaration, 
promised obedience without limitations or 
restrictions. The clergy of London, on tlie 
other hand, consistently with the principles 
still fostered in the metropolis, covertly 



398 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

was natural that he should remember the Exclusionists, and to indulge in 
a triumph of possession, if not in religious freedom. It was not to be 
expected, however, that his pride would permit him to verify their predic- 
tions by perfidy, even if his passions led him to seek to be revenged for 
their indignities. It was no time for resentment.^ If ever, it was a time 
for solemn duty. What they had demanded had been conceded, and con- 
firmed b}^ Parliament, and if he was capable of appreciating liberty as a 
Papist how could he be indifferent to the same privilege to a Protestant ? 
It was not so much what he desired for himself, as an individual, as what was 
demanded by the nation, for the people of the nation. Their bodies were 
his subjects, not their souls. He was a magistrate to enforce due obedience 
to constitutional law, and not to enslave their consciences. Was he hon- 
est ? Was he capable ? Had he been educated, and placed in relation to 
the high responsibilities of knowledge? Had he been taught the meaning 
of an oath — to be true to God and true to man ? Was he a friend to relig- 
ion, and to its institutions, to the government, and to the British Constitu- 
tion? In these questions it is not designed to ask to what part}^ he 
belonged, nor to what Church. All parties can boast of honest men, all 
sects of pious men, and all classes — of wise men. Their purpose is to 
reach a standard of analysis that will enable the reader to judge of mon- 
archy by itself — disconnected from democracy. To see what national good, 
or evil — can be traced to either, or to both. Charles the First lost his king- 
dom and his head. Cromwell gave birth to the Commonwealth, but could 
not save it. Charles the Second restored the crown to royalty, — ^but dis- 
graced it. It passed into the hands of James, and the inquiry is still 
pertinent, — what were the true elements of his character, and what 
did he accomplish for the nation, as king? If the nation prospered, 
was its prosperity to be traced to royalty, or democracy ? If it suffered 



insinuated their distrust and determination, sought a private interview, and attempted 

by speaking of "their religion established to excuse his conduct. The king, however, 

by law dearer to them than their lives." — who had no design to create unnecessary 

Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 374. opposition, stopped him, declaring that he 

1 When gratified and unopposed, James would remember nothing but his behaviour 

was not implacable as may be seen in the upon the Exclusion Bill. The offences oi 

choice of a ministry. Halifax, the trim- Sunderland were more serious ; but that 

mer, as he was now generally called, had veteran of intrigue, who had so often saved 

been, a few days before, the triumphant rival himself in the former reign by the influence 

of Jame's, faithful adherent, the Earl of of the Duchess of Portsmouth, had not 

Rochester. Godolphin had taken part with neglected to secure himself a patroness in 

him, Sunderland had promoted the Exclu- this. Lord Godolphin was included in the 

sion. These three ministers, therefore, general amnesty, as Sir James M'Intosh 

thought themselves destined to feel the thinks, " was retained only from his habits 

first effects of the new sovereign's power, of business. "-—ZTts^. of Party, Vol. i, pp. 

Halifax, in the eiqpectation of the storm, 365, 377. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 399 

from misrule, what party was responsible for it? Man, in public posi- 
tion, is to be counted a power, either for good or evil, as connected 
with motive, and as connected with Providence. It was a remark of 
Pythagoras, that " Power was never far from necessit}'." Not the power of 
the fatalist, but moral power, the power of mind. What, then, was the 
power of James, as a man? Most authors agree that he was dull and 
narrow minded. He was simple and weak, rash and obstinate. He had 
his brother's vices without his talents and good nature. He professed rev- 
erence for religion, but he was a bigot and sensualist.^ He promised more 
than he could perform, and he was accused of insincerity. He was a pom- 
pous Tory. He believed in the Divine right of Kings, and claimed a terri- 
ble power, as a monarch, which was made ridiculous by his feebleness as a 
man. He did not comprehend goodness as an element of royalty, but as a 
characteristic of weakness. Fear, not love, was the basis of his rule. 
Coercion and pain made up his system of government, and such men as 
Jeffreys, "Wright and Graham, — were his chosen ministers. It was natural 
with such views that he should want a standing army to force results 
which he could not command by merit and influence, — but Parliament 
would not trust him with one. Surrounded by regal pomp, and invested 
with regal authority not amenable to man, — he assumed the arrogance of a 
dictator, and exercised the will of a tjTant. He was brave when there was 
no danger, and a coward in the presence of superior power. His follies 
were more profitable to the nation than his wisdom, and his mistakes 
helped to lessen the mischief of his measures. He seemed to be infatuated 
w4th the sentiment that the king could do no wrong, and that the people 
had no rights. It was his ignoble lot to inherit an unhealthy weakness, 
and to be crushed by the " greatness thrust upon him." 

It was evident that James anticipated opposition. When he found, how- 
ever, that there was no active party to oppose his ascension to the throne 
he suddenly became confident and overbearing. He did not seem to know 
that his strength was nominal, and his weakness real. He no longer saw 
any occasion for disguise. He saw nothing to fear, and therefore nothing to 
conceal. " He had been everywhere proclaimed without one riot," sa^^s 
Macaulay, " without one seditious outcry. From all corners of the island 
he received intelligence that his subjects were tranquil and obedient. His 
spirit rose. The degrading relation to which he stood to a foreign power 
seemed intolerable. He became proud, punctilious, boastful, quarrelsome. 



1 When Ronqnillo, the Spanisirufambassa- in Spain for the King to consult with his 

dor urged the King not to assent with too confessor? "Yes," replied the ambassa- 

much facility to the counsels of his priests, dor, "and it is for that very reason our 

James asked whether it was not the custom affairs succeed so ill." — Hume, 



400 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

He held such high language about the dignity of his crown and the balance 
of power that his whole court fully expected a complete revolution in the 
foreign politics of the realm." 

James was not ignorant of the subsisting relations between Charles and 
Louis, and of the disgraceful fact that England had been degraded by the 
mone}^ of France. He was not insensible to shame, nor was he fully alive 
to honor. In his doubt as to his friends at home — he was willing to accept 
mone}' from an enemy abroad. With his money Louis was counted as a 
friend. He secretl3' sent an agent to him to make known his wants, and to 
declare his submission. He even apologized for a seeming neglect which 
he was eager to explain. When Louis promptly sent him' money, and at 
some inconvenience apparently — he was overcome by his grateful sense of 
obligation.^ He loved his money but feared his power. He could see no 
danger in the one, provided he had means to compensate him for the use of 
the other. His means were the rights of his subjects. With Charles and 
Louis — the}' had served as a currency. Not edicts for edicts, legislation 
for legislation, — but arbitrary power for money. Louis was willing to 
buy with means not his own, and Charles and James were willing to sell 
what did not belong to them. If the sale had been completed, France 
would have been everything, and England nothing. James did not appear 
to realize the true dignity of self respect more than Charles, nor to com- 
prehend the great truth that the prerogatives and duties of the crown were 
neither his to compromise, nor neglect. His ministers deemed it presumption 
to look higher than their master, and they saw no degradation in obsequious 
attentions to Barillon, the French minister, — whose chief business it was 
to act the spy and betray the nation. 

During the reign of James, — he had the full benefit of parties, or fac- 
tions, in one way or another, so far as they could agree to unite, and of 
every possible variety of coalitions, — either for special or general objects. 
In turn, he was for them all and against them all, — and ultimately all 



1 The day after the death of his brother, that I feel more sensibly what he has done 
James professed to Barillon great friendship in this, than anything that may happen to 
for Louis, and in the most abject terms me in the course of my life : for I plainly 
asked for money. Before his request could see the bottom of his heart, and how desir- 
be communicated Louis had anticipated his ous he is that my affairs may prosper. He 
wants, and had sent him bills of exchange has even outrun what I could possibly wish, 
for the sum of 500,000 livres. Barillon and has prevented my wants." — Dalrymple, 
gives an account of its reception to his Vol. ii, Appendix, p. 134. When the 
master. He says, — "This prince was boastful language of James was reported to 
extremely surprised, and said with tears in Louis it diverted him. He said, ** My good 
his eyes, <* It is the part of the King your ally talks big, but he is as fond of my pis- 
master alone, to act in a manner so noble, toles as ever his brother was*" 
and 80 full of goodness to me. 1 own to you 



JAMES THE SECOND. 401 

united against him, except a few Tories who became bewildered in vain 
attempts to understand why infallibility in theory should become error in 
practice. Securely on the throne, James did not hesitate to act the parti- 
san, and to prepare the people for the general election. The Tories were 
profoundly impressed with their own importance, and on all occasions 
sought to magnif}^ their respect for the King, and to express their utter 
detestation of the Democrats.^ This period and the party contrivances of 
the crown to crush all opposition either by intimidation or by direct inter- 
ference with the rights of the freeholders — are so admirably described, in a 
word, by Macaulay — it would be a loss to the reader not to quote him. He 
says,— 

" The magistrates of Middlesex thanked God for having confounded the 
designs of those regicides and excluders who, not content with having mur- 
dered one blessed monarch, were bent on destroying the foundations of 
monarchy. The city of Gloucester execrated the blood thirst}^ villains who 
had tried to deprive his majesty of his just inheritance. The burgesses of 
"VYigan assured their sovereign that the}^ would defend him against all plot- 
ting Ahithophels and rebellious Absaloms. The grand jur}^ of Suffolk 
expressed a hope that the Parliament would proscribe all the excluders. 
Many corporations pledged themselves never to return to Parliament any 
person who had voted for taking away the birthright of James. Even the 
capital was profoundly obsequious. The lawyers and traders vied with each 
other in servilit3\ Inns of court and inns of chancery sent up fervent pro- 
fessions of attachment and submission. All the great commercial socie- 
ties, the East India Compan}", the African Company, the Turkey Company, 
the Muscovia Company, the Hudson's Bay Company, the Maryland Mer- 
chants, the Jamaica Merchants, the Merchant Adventurers, declai-ed that 
they most cheerfully complied with the royal edict which required them 
still to pay custom. Bristol, the second city of the island, echoed, the 
voice of London. But nowhere was the spirit of loyalty stronger than, in 
the two Universities. Oxford declared that she would never swerve from 
those religious principles which bound her to obey the king without any 
restrictions or limitations. Cambridge condemned, in severe terms, the 
violence and treachery of those turbulent men who had maliciously endeav- 
ored to turn the stream of succession out of the ancient channel.. 

" Such addresses as these filled, during a considerable time, every number 
of the London Gazette. But it was not only by addressing that the Tories 



'"The Tories," says Macaulay, "were is not steadily Whig or Tory, but* which 

loud in professions of attachment to their inclines alternately to Whiggism and to 

new master. The hatred of the "Whigs was Toryism, was still on the Tory sidfe." — Hist, 

kept down by fear. That great mass which of Englandi, Vol. r, p. 437. 



26 



402 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

showed their zeal. The writs for the new Parliament had gone forth, and 
the countr}' was agitated by the tumult of a general election. No election 
had ever taken place under circumstances so favorable to the court. Hund- 
reds of thousands whom the Popish Plot had scared into Whiggism had been 
scared back by the Rye-House Plot into Toryism. In the counties the gov- 
ernment could depend on an overwhelming majority of the gentlemen of 
three hundred a year and upward, and on the clerg)^ almost to a man. 
Those boroughs which had once been the citadels of Whiggism had recently ' 
been deprived of their charters by legal sentence, or had prevented the 
sentence by voluntary surrender. The^' had now been reconstituted in such 
a manner that they were certain to return members devoted to the crown. 
Where the townsmen could not be trusted, the freedom had been bestowed 
on the neighboring squires. In some of the small western corporations, 
the constituent bodies were in great part composed of captains and lieu- 
tenants of the Guards. The returning officers were everywhere in the 
interest of the court. In ever}' shire the lord lieutenant and his deputies 
formed a powerful, active, and vigilant committee for the purpose of cajol- 
ing and intimidating the freeholders. The people were solemnly warned 
from thousands of pulpits not to vote for an}' Whig candidate, as they 
should answer to Him who had ordained the powers that be, and who had 
pronounced rebellion a sin not less deadl}' than witchcraft. All these 
advantages the predominant party not onl}' used to the utmost, but abused 
in so shameless a manner, that grave and reflecting men, who had been true 
to the monarchy in peril, and who bore no love to Republicans and schis- 
matics, stood aghast, and argued from such beginnings the approach of 
evil times." ^ 

The motives of James centred in self and roj-alt}-. His unlimited con- 
fidence in the doctrine of divine right — divested him of all doubt as to the 
correctness of his own opinions. His own assertions were sufficient to 
establish his prerogatives, and the royal will was paramount to law. He 
saw but one great difficulty to be overcome, and that was to control the 
Parliament. Without this — he was powerless to execute his plans. That 
it was his design to become absolute master — there can be no doubt. His 
desperate expedients to monopolize all the sources of influence, and to 
exclude by trick, or force, all adverse party action — gave him a Parlia- 



1 Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 442. ly carried on in most places. God give 

" It would be easy," says Macaulay, "to a better issue of it than some expect.' 

fill a volume with what Whig historians May, 10, 1685.) Again he says, ' The 

and pamphleteers have written on this sub- truth is, there were many of the new mem- 

ject. I will cite only one witness, a Church- bers whose elections and returns were uni- 

man and a Tory. ' Elections,' says versally condemned.' (May 22.) " 
Evelyn, ' were thought to be very indecent- 



JAMES THE SECOND. 403 

ment, as servile as it was contemptible. Most of the members were his 
official slaves. He purchased them, and it is a sad commentary on the 
times, that so man}' were willing to be sold.^ The pa^'ment of monej', to 
the lovers of money, to secure office, is a high virtue compared to the dis- 
graceful fraud that resorts to trick and deception to disfranchise the people. 
He counted upon his powerful all}', the King of France, — and not with- 
out good reasons, he could rely upon the practical sympathies of Spain 
and the Papists. He looked upon the Church of England as certain for the 
crown, — for although he did not know what it was to be sincere himself, he 
could not think for a moment that the dignitaries of the Church and its 
powerful institutions could have the audacity' to teach passive obedience, 
and at the same time exercise a discriminating submission. Such a 
defiance of all decency shocked his good opinion of the Church. He had 
no substantial reason why he should be particularly lenient to Episcopac}', 
to favor the Exclusionists, or to make friends with the Roundheads and 
Kepublicans. He had received no favor from them when the}- possessed 
the power of denial, and he only waited for an opportunity which he was 
not slow to secure to vindicate the high prerogatives of the crown, and 
retaliate the many insults heaped upon Popery-. His opponents were not 
factious, — but sincerely disposed to second all constitutional measures cal- 
culated to advance the prosperity of the nation. 

His misrule gave encouragement to Monmouth to claim the crown, and 
by force of arms to relieve the countrj' from despotism. It was a desperate 
remed}', but many were found, with ambitious motives and suppressed 
resentments, to favor the cause, — and to attempt to correct by arms what 
they could not reach b}^ legislation. Monmouth had been a favorite. His 
personal address was pleasing and popular, and he had been highly favored 
by adventitious circumstances. He was made to believe by admirers and 
flatterers, who saw no danger in inordinate love of distinction, that the 
general dislike for James, combined with his own popularit}', would secure 



1" All Arts," says Burnet, "were used were not acceptable at court." * * * 

to manage elections, so that the King " The King said there were not above forty 

should have a parliament to his mind, members but such as he himself wished 

Complaints came up from all parts of Eng- for : they were neither men of parts nor 

land of the injustice and violence used in estates, so there was no hope left, either of 

elections, beyond what had ever been prac- working on their understandings, orof mak- 

tised in former times ; and this was so uni- ing them see their interests in not giving 

vet sal over the whole nation, that no cor- the King all at once; most of them were 

ner of it was neglected. In the new char- furious and violent, and seemed resolved 

ters that had been granted, the election of to recommend themselves to the King by 

the members was taken out of the hands of putting everything in his power, and by 

the inhabitai ts, and restrained to the cor- ruining all those who had been for the 

poration men, all those being left out who Exclusion." 



404 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



an cas}^ triumph. Two cowards were in the field, each offering a reward 
for the other's head, and it was more good luck than skill that gave the 
victory to the stronger part}'. It was a weak and foolish rebellion,^ and it 
had a tendency- to irritate the passions of James, and to increase his party 
bitterness. He imagined that all his opponents would rejoice in the suc- 
cess of Monmouth, and when the rebellion was crushed, and Monmouth was 



1 James Crofts, Duke of Monmouth, was 
the natural son of Charles the Second by- 
Lucy Walters, or Barlow, and born about 
ten years before the Restoration. He was 
the favorite of his father and the idol of the 
people. Elegant in person, generous in 
spirit, and fascinating in manners, he 
secured a popularity that blinded the little 
discretion he inherited from royal blood. 
The king required him to conform to the 
established church. By the advice of 
Bristol and Castlemaine — he was created 
Duke of Monmouth — but in opposition to 
the remonstrances of the queen-mother and 
Clarendon. He was married at an early- 
period to the countess of Buccleugh, the 
most wealthy heiress of Scotland. Though 
a good wife to him, he did not love her. 
He preferred Lady Henrietta Wentworth 
whom he loved tenderly, and he saw no sin 
in their adulterous connection. "Bucking- 
ham, observing the unbounded affection 
of the King for this young man," says 
Lingard, " resolved to set him up as com- 
petitor for the crown in opposition to the 
Duke of York." Monmouth was as much 
loved by the people as the Duke of York 
was hated. When asked, if he intended to 
own him for his successor, his father 
instantly replied, that, " much as he loved 
the duke he had rather see him hanged at 
Tyburn, than own him for his legitimate 
son." He was banished and pardoned by 
his father for his indiscretions only to com- 
mit new ones, and was finally executed for 
organizing an army to invade England, 
joined by the Duke of Argyle of Scotland, 
against the rule of James the Second — 
which they termed a usurpation. At this 
time there were many outlaws on the Conti- 
nent, and " their information," says Macau- 
lay, " concerning the temper of the public 



mind was chiefly derived from the worst 
members of the Whig party." Though not 
so wicked, probably, as stated by Macaulay, 
still, most readers would agree that such as 
Robert Ferguson, John Wildman, Henry 
Danvers, John Ayloffe, Nathaniel Wade, 
Richard Goodenough, Richard Rumbold, 
Lord Gray, are recorded to be, would be 
dangerous counsellors to such a person as 
Monmouth. Read Macaulay, Vol. i, p. 
486. Cooke says, — "The insurrections of 
Argyle and Monmouth, are events only 
collaterally connected with the history of 
the two parties. Argyle's sentiments had 
been those of an English Tory, until, like 
many others, he had been converted by^ the 
tyranny of which he was himself the sub- 
ject. Monmouth invaded England in order 
to usurp a throne to which he had no legal 
title, and he was supported by large bodies 
of the people. But neither of these designs 
were countenanced by the Whigs." — Vol. 
I, p. 397. Before his death, he acknowl- 
edged his illegitimacy, and expressed his 
penitence for the crime he had committed. 
In reply to the solicitations of bishops 
Kenn, Turner, and Dr. Jenison and Dr. 
Hooper — the clergymen appointed to at- 
tend Monmouth upon the scaffold, he 
answered, " I shall say but very little; I 
come to die ; I die a Protestant of the 
Church of England." — " My Lord," re- 
joined his clerical attendants, " if you be of 
the Church of England, you must acknowl- 
edge the doctrine of non-resistance to be 
true." His adultery was of secondary 
importance. They repeated, — " We desire 
only an answer to this point " the doctrine 
of non-resistance, — but the victim bared his 
neck for the axe without a word of reply. — 
See Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 397. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 405 

a cowardly suppliant on his knees before him pleading for mercy, he doubt- 
less felt that the time had come when all would acknowledge his power and 
tremble. He felt that all his enemies were consolidated into one body, and 
that there was but one neck to be severed. 

By his royal assurance and cunning appeals to unscrupulous adventurers, 
and cowardly renegades, he secured the cooperation of Scotland and Ire- 
land. He became so conscious of a Caesar's power — that he no longer saw 
any need of friends and allies. He had become a self-protective power. He 
enslaved the Parliament, the Church, and the Universities, and displaced 
all honest officials who were dangerous to his kingdom. He was opposed, 
but opposition excited his royal wrath. To his rule, he added cruel severi- 
ties, and if he could not persuade, he was ready to terrify his subjects into 
humble and abject submission.^ Becoming impatient — he surrendered him- 
self to the sway of vindictive passions. As he counted conscience noth- 
ing but an obstacle, he looked for bad men to serve him. Good men, men 
who loved freedom and reverenced the Constitution, were summoned as 
criminals, and treated as traitors. Honest judges and jmymen, independ- 
ent members of Parliament and venerable prelates — were reprimanded, 
dismissed and imprisoned. The criminal who had money to pa}- for his 
ransom, or the wickedness to further the purposes of the King — was par- 
doned. The innocent man, who denounced usurpation and claimed the 
inalienable immunities of citizenship — was degraded as a culprit and made 
to suffer. Soldiers were exempted from penalties due to crime, and reserved 
for the work of bloodhounds. Dissenters were followed and watched by 
spies — and everj^ movement, word or look reported to the Court of High 
Commissioners. Such men as Baxter, Bunyan, and Howe, were treated 
with vulgar insolence and cruelt}', and their works burned by the common 
hangman. John Locke was respected and feared, but not trusted.^ Some 



1 Barillon says in a letter to Louis, — Oxford. It was determined to drive from 
" That he had communicated his orders to that celebrated college the greatest man of 
King James, and made a further offer of whom it could ever boast ; but this was not 
what troops James should want from easy. Locke had, at Oxford, abstained 
France, to oppress his enemies, and make from expressing any opinion on the politics 
himself be obeyed by his subjects." — Dal- of the day. Spies had been set about him. 
rymph, Vol. hi. Appendix, p. 178. Doctors of divinity and masters of arts had 

2 " John Locke," says Macaulay, "hated not been ashamed to peform the vilest of 
tyranny and persecution as a philosopher ; all offices, that of watching the lips of a 
but his intellect and his temper preserved companion in order to report his words to 
him from the violence of a partisan. He his ruin." * * * "When it was found 
had lived on confidential terms with Shaftes- that treachery could do nothing, arbitrary 
bury, and had thus incurred the displeasure power was used. After vainly trying to 
of the court." * * * " In one point, how- inveigle Locke into a fault, the government 
ever, he was vulnerable. He was a student resolved to punish him without one. Or- 
of Christ Church in the University of ders came from Whitehall that he should be 



406 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

of the nobility, high in position and of great influence, who hesitated to 
serve the king — were dishonored, by dismissal, or fined and imprisoned. 
In one thing James succeeded. In the choice of his servile tools he is 
entitled to a record of infamy not to be surpassed by any tjTant of any 
age. He believed in the theory of coercion. He was King. He could do 
no wrong. That he was infallible he had been taught to believe himself, 
and in this conviction he was sustained by the Church and Tories. That 
his infallibility was doubted only demonstrated the necessity of coercion. 
This conceded, it was consistent to be cruel. Cruelty in all its hideous 
forms — belongs to the scale of the system, and the inventive genius of 
humanity has not yet been exhausted as to the last degree to be marked 
upon it. To show the revolting features of such a theory, reduced to prac- 
tice, in good faith — some examples are briefly given from the records of 
Jeffreys — the Lord Chief Justice of James. ^ These cannot be too often 
repeated, or too much studied. The}^ illustrate the capabilities of human 
nature, — in its weakness, wickedness and fanaticism. As a magistrate 
Jeffreys was a monster. It is recorded that his services and the brutal and 
insolent manner of rendering them, were particularly^ acceptable to the 
king — his master. 

In sentencing a woman to be whipped at the cart's tail, — he exclaimed, 
— " Hangman, I charge 3'ou to pay particular attention to this lady ! 
Scourge her soundl}', man ! Scourge her till the blood runs down ! It is 
Christmas ; a cold time for madam to strip in ! See that you warm her shoul- 
ders thoroughly ! " When he passed judgment on Ludowick Muggleton, 
the drunken tailor who fancied himself a prophet, — he roared — " Impudent 
rogue ! thou shalt have an easy, easy, easy punishment ! " He was sen- 
tenced to the pillor}' and almost killed with brickbats. The celebrated 
Richard Baxter was accused of complaining of the persecution which the 
Dissenters suffered, and presented himself at Westminster Hall to ask that 
he might be allowed a proper time for his defence. " Jeffreys burst out into 



ejected, and those orders the dean and of character, the teachings of history? 
canons made haste to obey." * * * John Locke was a democrat, in faith, phi- 
" Locke was travelling on the Continent for losophy, and practice. The facts of his 
his health when he heard that lie had been integrity, and of his great ability as a phi- 
deprived of his home and of his bread with- losopher, made him a formidable enemy to a 
out a trial or even a notice." * * * "He Tory king who had been taught to fear the 
quietly repaired to Utrecht, where, while his truth. In writing his letter on Toleration, he 
partners in misfortune were planning their accomplished a thousand times more damage 
own destruction, he employed himself in to the Tory cause than was accomplished 
writing his celebrated letter on Toleration." by all the schemes of the exiled Whigs. 
— Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 505. But 1 These extracts are made from Macau- 
why should Macaulay omit in this example lay's England. — Vol. i, pp. 417-619. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 4:07 

a storm of rage. ' Not a minute/ he cried, ' to save his life. I can deal 
with saints as well as with sinners. There stands Oates on one side of the 
pillory ; and if Baxter stood on the other, the two greatest rogues in the 
kingdom would stand together.' When the trial came on at Guildhall — 
Baxter waB accompanied by Doctor William Bates, an eminent non-con- 
formist divine, and by Pollexfen and Wallop — two Whig barristers of great 
note. The friends of Baxter crowded the court. Pollexfen had hardly 
commenced his address to the jur}-, before he was abruptly interrupted by 
Jeffreys : ' Pollexfen, I know 3'ou well. I will set a mark on you. You 
are the patron of the faction. This is an old rogue, a schismatical knave, 
a hypocritical villain. He hates the Liturgy. He would have nothing but 
longwinded cant without book ; ' and then his lordship turned up his eyes, 
clasped his hands, and began to sing through his nose, in imitation of what 
he supposed to be Baxter's style of praying, ' Lord, we are thy people, thy 
peculiar people, thy dear people.' It was quietly remarked by Pollexfen 
to the court that his late majesty had thought Baxter deserving of a 
bishopric. ' And what ailed the old blockhead then,' cried Jeffreys, ' that 
he did not take it?' His fury now rose almost to madness. He called 
Baxter a dog, and swore that it would be' no more than justice to whip such 
a villain through the whole city. 

"Wallop interposed, but fared no better than his leader. 'You 
are in all these dirty causes, Mr. Wallop,' said the judge. ' Gentle- 
men of the long robe ought to be ashamed to assist such factious 
knaves.' The advocate made another attempt to obtain a hearing, but 
to no purpose. ' If 3'ou do not know jour dut}^,' said Jeffreys, ' I will 
teach it you.' 

*' Wallop sat down, and Baxter himself attempted to put in a word ; but 
the chief justice drowned all expostulation in a torrent of ribaldry and 
invective, mingled with scraps of Hudibras. ' My lord,' said the old man, 
'I have been much blamed by Dissenters for speaking respectfullj^ of 
bishops.' ' Baxter for bishops ! ' cried the judge ; ' that's a merry conceit 
indeed. I know what you mean by bishops — rascals like yourself, Kid- 
derminster bishops, factious, snivelling Presbyterians ! ' Again Baxter 
essayed to speak, and again Jeffreys bellowed, ' Eichard, Hichard, dost 
thou think we will let thee poison the court? Richard, thou art an old 
knave. Thou hast written books enough to load a cart, and every book as 
full of sedition as an egg is full of meat. By the grace of God^ I'll look 
after thee. I see a great many of your brotherhood waiting to know what 
will befall their mighty Don. And there,' he continued, fixing his savage 
eje on Bates, ' there is a doctor of the party at your elbow. But, by the 
grace of God Almighty, I will crush you all.' One of the counsel attempt- 
ed to explain that the language of Baxter had been misconstrued, and com- 
menced to read the context to show the fact. ' In a moment he was roared 



408 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

down. ' You sha*n t turn the court into a conventicle ! ' Some were heard 
to weep. ' Snivelling calves ! * gi'owled Jeffreys." 

Several clerg^^men of the Established Church were present to testify in 
favor of Baxter's character, — but they were silenced by the Judge. " Does 
your lordship think," said Baxter, '' that any jury wall convict a man on such 
a trial as this?" "I warrant you, Mr. Baxter," said Jeffreys. "Don't 
trouble 3'ourself about that." Jeffrej^s was right. The sheriffs were the 
tools of the government. After a moment's conference — the jurj^ returned 
a verdict of guilty. " My lord," said Baxter, as he left the court, " there 
was once a chief justice who would have treated me very differently." 
Allusion was made to Sir Matthew Hale. " There is not an honest man 
in England," said Jeffreys, " but looks on thee as a knave." 

In the case of Alice Lisle, a witness hesitated and became silent — he was 
treated with so much roughness and profanity. " Oh, how hard the truth 
is," said Jeffrej^s, "to come out of a Ijing Presbj^terian knave." The wit- 
ness after considerable pause attempted to explain — but was unintelligible. 
** "Was there ever," exclaimed the judge, with an oath, " was there ever 
such a villain on the face of the earth ? Dost thou believe that there is a 
God ? Dost thou believe in hell fire ? Of all the witnesses that I ever met 
with, I never saw thy fellow." Still the poor man, scared out of his 
senses, remained mute, and again Jeffreys burst forth : "I hope, gentlemen 
of the jury, that you take notice of the horrible carriage of this fellow. 
How can one help abhorring both these men and their religion ? A Turk is 
a saint to such a fellow as this. A pagan would be ashamed of such vil- 
lainy. Oh, blessed Jesus ! What a generation of vipers do we live 
among ! " "I cannot tell what to sa}', my lord," faltered Dunne. The 
judge again broke forth into a volley of oaths. " Was there ever," lie 
cried, " such an impudent rascal? Hold the candle to him, that we may 
see his brazen face. You, gentlemen, that are of counsel for the crown, see 
that an information for perjur}^ be preferred against this fellow." When 
Lady Alice was called on for her defence she said, " that though she knew 
Hicks to be in trouble when she took him in, she did not know or suspect 
that he had been concerned in the rebellion," and gave other facts to prove 
her innocence. " The chief justice began to storm. ' But I will tell 3'ou. 
There is not one of those lying, snivelling, canting Presbyterians but, one 
way or another, had a hand in the rebellion. Presbytery has all manner of 
villainy in it. Nothing but PresbN'tery could have made Dunne such a 
rogue. Show me a Presbyterian, and PU show thee a lying knave.' In 
the same style he gave the case to the jur^' , and took occasion to declaim 
against the Whigs and Dissenters. After much hesitation and reluctance — 
the jury were compelled by the threats of the judge to return a verdict of 
guilty. Jeffreys on the following morning sentenced Alice Lisle to be 
burned alive that very afternoon. The clergy, and ladies of high rank 



JAMES THE SECOND. 409 

interceded to save her, and earnest appeals were made to the King, — but 
all pleadings for mercy were of no avail. " The utmost that could be obtain- 
ed was that her sentence should be commuted from burning to beheading. 
She was put to death on a scaffold in the market-place of "Winchester." 

" It has not been generally thought that," says Macaula}-, " either after 
the rebellion of 1715, or after the rebellion of 1745, the House of Han- 
over erred on the side of clemency ; yet all the executions of 1715 and 
1745 added together will appear to have been few indeed when compared 
with those which disgraced the Bloody Assizes. The number of the rebels 
whom Jeffreys hanged on this circuit was three hundred and twenty. 
Lonsdale says seven hundred, and Burnet six hundred." In Somersetshire, 
" the chief seat of the rebellion, two hundred and thirty-three prisoners were 
in a few days hanged, drawn and quartered. At every spot where two 
roads met, on every market-place, on the green of every village which had 
furnished Monmouth with soldiers, ironed corpses clattering in the wind, 
or heads and quarters stuck on poles, poisoned the air, and made the trav- 
eller sick with horror. In many parishes the peasantry could not assemble 
in the house of God without seeing the ghastly face of a neighbor grinning 
at them over the porch. The chief justice was all himself. His spirits 
rose higher and higher as the work went on. He laughed, shouted, joked, 
and swore in such a way that many thought him drunk from morning to 
night ; but in him it was not easy to distinguish the madness produced by 
evil passions from the madness produced by brandy. A prisoner affirm- 
ed that the witnesses who appeared against him were not entitled to credit. 
One of -them, he said, was a papist, and the other a prostitute. 'Thou 
impudent rebel,' exclaimed the judge, ' to reflect on the king's evidence ! 
I see thee, villain, I see thee already with the halter round thy neck.' 
Another produced testimony that he was a good Protestant. 'Protest- 
ant ! ' said Jeffreys ; ' j'ou mean Presbyterian. I'll hold jon a wager of 
it, I can smell a Presbyterian forty miles.' One wretched man moved 
the pity even of bitter Tories. ' My lord,' they said, ' this poor creature 
is on the parish.' ' Do not trouble yourselves,' said the judge, ' I will 
ease the parish of the burden.' The number of prisoners whom Jeffreys 
transported was eight hundred and fort3'-one.' " These wretched men were 
given to loyal Tories, as slaves for ten years — to be banished to some West 
Indian island. They were worth, it was estimated, from ten to fifteen 
pounds each, and there was much angry competition for grants. " While 
the humbler retainers of the government were pillaging the families of the 
slaughtered peasants, the chief justice was fast accumulating a fortune out 
of the plunder of a higher class of Whigs. He traded largely in pardons. 
He was ably assisted in the work of extortion b}^ the crew of parasites who 
were in the habit of drinking and laughing with him. The office of these 
men was to drive hard bargains with convicts under the strong terrors of 



410 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



death, and t\ ith parents trembling for the lives of children. A portion of 
the spoil was abandoned by Jeffreys to his agents." ^ 

Much more might be added respecting this monster in human form, — but 
enoii<2;h has been given, it is to be hoped, to induce the reader to pursue the 
subject in the volumes of Macaulay and of other historians of England. 
Jeffreys was promoted to high distinction, and though a favorite minister 
of the king — he exerted but little influence in the House of Peers. lie 
continued in his gross habits of intemperance, and his end was pitiful 
indeed.'^ It was befitting his miserable life. This feature of the reign of 



l"The Tory ministers," says Cooke, 
"had no h.and in pressing forward the execu- 
tions ; the only manner in which they inter- 
fered was to obtain wholesale grants of par- 
dons, which they were careful to sell at the 
highest possible price." — Hist, of Party, 
Vol. I, p. 406. 

2 Sir George Jeffreys was appointed chief 
justice by Charles the Second, by advice of 
Sunderland. He was so well liked as judge 
that James made him Lord Chancellor, and 
one of the commissioners to try the follow- 
ers of Monmouth. He was disgusting in 
his servility to men in power, and he hated 
the Whigs, who had deprived him of his 
recordership in London. " He was a man of 
quick and vigorous parts," says Macaulay, 
" but constitutionally prone to insolence and 
to the angry passions. When just emerg- 
ing from boyhood, he had risen into prac- 
tice at the Old Bailey bar, a bar where advo- 
cates have always used a license of tongue 
unknown in Westminster Hall. Here, dur- 
ing many years, his chief business was to 
examine and cross-examine the most hard- 
ened miscreants of a great capital. Daily 
conflicts with prostitutes and thieves called 
out and exercised his powers so effectually 
that he became the most consummate bully 
ever known in his profession." * * ♦ 
"Impudence and ferocity sat upon his 
brow. The glare of his eyes had a fascina- 
tion for the unhappy victim on whom they 
were fixed; yet his brow and eye were 
said to be less terrible than the savage 
lines of his mouth." He was a renegade 
lloundhead. When he found no advance- 
ment in his party, " he made haste to sell his 
forehead of brass and his tongue of venom 



to the court." Charles, becoming disgusted 
with his insolence and cruelty, said of him, 
" That man has no learning, no sense, no 
manners, and more impudence than ten 
carted street-walkers." * * * "Even 
when he was sober, his violence was sufli- 
ciently frightful ; but, in general, his reason 
was overclouded, and his evil passions stim- 
ulated by the fumes of intoxication. His 
evenings were ordinarily given to revelry," 

* * * "He was constantly surrounded 
on such occasions by buffoons, selected for 
the most part, from among the vilest petti- 
foggers who practised before him. These 
men bantered and abused each other for 
his entertainment. He joined in their 
ribald talk, sang catches with them, and, 
when his head grew hot, hugged and kissed 
them in an ecstasy of drunken fondness." 

* * * "At a dinner which a wealthy 
alderman gave to some of the leading mem- 
bers of the government, the lord treasurer 
and the lord chancellor were so drunk that 
they stripped themselves almost stark naked, 
and were with difficulty prevented from 
climbing up a sign-post to drink his majes- 
ty's health." * * * *'He often came 
to the judgment seat, having kept the 
court waiting long, and yet having but 
half slept off his debauch, his cheeks 
on fire, his eyes staring like those of a 
maniac." — Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 
418. Vol. ii, p. 62. He was a great 
coward as all such men are. When James 
had fled, and his servile followers were 
horror-stricken, and hiding their heads, 
Jeffreys was discovered looking out of the 
window of an ale house by one whom he 
had abused. He was disguised. " The eye- 



JAMES THE SECOND. 411 

James is distinctly given that the reader may be enabled to judge of the 
inevitable results of coercion when reduced to a system, and carried out in 
practice. James was boldl}^ consistent. He treated all active non-con- 
formists alike. When one step made another necessar}' he did not hesitate 
to take it. In his hands coercion had a fair trial. He was impartial. He 
hardl}' attempted to disguise any evil which was necessary to his plans. 
He recognized no friends but those who served him, and all who refused to 
serve him were enemies. He met them as enemies, and treated them as 
enemies. He was impartial to his advisers. Advice that did not harmon- 
ize with his own opinions was unheeded, except to be noted, whether it 
came from his holiness the Pope, or from the lord bishops of England. 
The meanest of his subjects who promised service, and desired opinions — 
were his chosen counsellors. Believing as he did in coercion, how could 
he consistently do otherwise? Having power, as he supposed, he was 
resolved to make the most of it. It was not his polic}^, but his duty. It 
was not his judgment, but his mission. It was not his wisdom, but the will 
of God. To his mind, man had no wisdom, God no attributes. With 
such convictions of self sufficienc}", and comprehending no power but that 
of coercion, what was his success ? Did he build up a part}^ ? Did he 
command the respect and confidence of friends, or the admiration of ene- 
mies? Did he succeed in administering the government? Did he satisfy 
the Tories, the Whigs, the Roundheads, or Republicans ? Did he answer 
the expectations of the Papists, or the Protestants, the Church, or the 
Parliament ? He sadly disappointed them all. He dallied with each and 
gained all, but tlie Democrats ; he. coalesced with all and deceived all he 
gained, and lost all but a few Tories who saw more safety in pride than 



brows, indeed," says Macaulay, "had been He -wrung his hands; he looked wildly out, 

shaved away. The dress was that of a sometimes at one window, sometimes at the 

common sailor from Newcastle, and was other, and was heard even above the tumult 

black with cold dust ; but there was no crying, ' Keep them off, gentlemen ! for 

mistaking the savage mouth and eye of God's sake, keep them off! ' — Ibid, Vol. 

Jeffreys. The alarm was given. In a ii, p. 517. It was his wish to be placed in 

moment the house was surrounded by hund- the Tower for safety, and he died there, 

reds of people shaking bludgeons and bel- Such was the prime minister and chief 

lowing curses." * * * " Two regiments justice of England, under James the Sec- 

of militia were drawn out to escort him to ond ! " Speaker Onslow informs us," says 

the Tower, and found the duty a diflScult Lingard, " that Jeffreys on his death bed 

one." * * * " The thousands (com- declared to Dr. Scott, who attended him, 

posing the mob) who were disappointed of that, *what he did he did by express 

their revenge pursued the coach, with howls orders, and that he was not half bloody 

of rage, to the gate of the Tower, brandish- enough for the prince who sent him thither.' " 

ing cudgels, and holding up halters full in — IIsH. of Eng,, Vol. x, p. 91. This tes- 

the prisoner's view. The wretched man, timony is questionable, 
meantime, was in convulsions of terror. 



412 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

honor in principle. This was an age of religious dispute. Society was 
divided into religious parties, and party struggles were rather of a theolog- 
ical nature than political. In theory — religion was deemed paramount to 
politics, but as Church and State were connected — politics became practi- 
call}' of more importance than religion. James gained the Church and 
Parliament by the aid of the clergy and Tories. The Tories claimed him 
as a Protestant King bound to defend the Protestant cause, and the envoi's 
of Louis distracted him by the opposing counsels of the Pope and the 
Jesuits. All Dissenters, for a time, were willing to sink their differences, 
each sect indulging in the hope that it was bound in the end to master all 
the others. 

When James saw that his most persistent advisers were chiefly of the 
spiritual class, — he was doubtless more confirmed than ever in the belief 
that as he ruled by divine appointment, he was bound to regard the Church 
as the true basis of government. He did not require a statesman to aid 
him, but an hierarchy.^ An hierarchy established b}^ whom? By God, or 
man? Bj^ the Pope, or the British Parliament ? He did not like the Par- 
liament as a source of power, — he had seen its changes. As he counted 
ro3'alty nothing when divided, it was his sacred duty to protect the throne 
against all possible causes of division. He believed in the infallibility of 
the Church of Rome — if he did not heed its admonitions. He saw safety 
in its immutability. In his belief — it was impossible that the King should 
be otherwise than orthodox, and he knew what was supposed to be the fate 
of non-conformists, or heretics. He was a Papist by adoption and hy 
choice. To be a Catholic was above citizenship, and to favor Protestants 
was to doom them to perdition. As he was not ignorant of the inconsist- 
ency of men, to say nothing of their wickedness, who constantly in prac- 
tice violate their professions, — -he did not hesitate to adopt a policy of 
gi'adual control as the surest method of ultimate success. He had been 
cheered and flattered by the Protestants who had proscribed the Catholics, 
and he only followed their example, in principle, when he claimed position 
in England — for the Church of Rome. He could not plead non-abilitv. 



1 The taste of James, and the servile spirit eloquence of Sprat, of South, and of Tillot- 
of his followers may be seen in a sketch of son. King Solomon was King James. 
a sermon on a public occasion delivered by Adonijah was Monmouth. Joab was a llye 
Francis Turner, bishop of Ely. ''He was House conspirator; Shimei, a Whig libel- 
one of those writers," says Macaulay, " who er; Abiathar, an honest but misguided old 
still affected the obsolete style of Arch- Cavalier. One phrase in the Book of 
bishop "Williams and Bishop Andrews. The Chronicles was construed to mean that the 
sermon was made up of quaint conceits, king was above the Parliament; and an- 
such as seventy years earlier might have other was cited to prove that he alone ought 
been admired, but such as moved the scorn to command tlie militia." — Hist, of Eng- 
of a generation accustomed to the purer land, Vol. i, p. 441. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 413 

He understood no system of " masterly inactivit}^" He could not be neu- 
tral, for above all crimes, the crime of neutralit}^ in religion was then 
deemed to be the greatest. As he was anything but a pious man himself, 
his reverence for the church was of a superstitious nature. This did not 
lessen its practical realities, nor its holy influences. It increased their 
sacredness. Superstition impels action, it does not invite it. It is to 
ignorance what wisdom is to knowledge, — a form of power. Wisdom com- 
prehends knowledge and uses it ; superstition is mere sentiment blindly 
associated with ignorance, — with no means either of correcting itself or of 
discerning truth in others. It acts but does not reason. It feels but does 
not see. James, as king, was accountable to God, and as man, to the 
supreme Pontiff. His duty was plain, his course was clear. He had no 
choice. Unity was salvation, division death. He adopted a spiritual 
standard of government, and he proceeded to act in conformity to it.^ He 
believed himself to be as sincere as others, who did not agree with him, 
and he saw more power in his allies in France, Spain and Rome — than in 
the Protestant Church in England. The first step indicated the bent of his 
mind, and the parties that had been drawn together for a common object, 
to secure a government which had been lost, — when they discovered his 
tendencies began to recede from the crown and each other, — as from dan- 
gers more terrible than pestilence and death. They did not come together 
with an}' feelings of mutual respect or confidence. Their incongruous union 
was one of necessity, not of cooperative faith. The faith of each was the 



1 He was not always prepared to obey the James, " fear me as well as the law." " I 

Pope. It was the judgment of the Pope, cannot fear you," was the answer of the 

and of leading cardinals, that D'Adda duke; "as long as I commit no offence, I 

should execute his commission of nuncio to am secure in your majesty's justice." Som- 

tlie King of England without the public erset lost his place and his regiment of the 

assumption of that character. James guards. — Lingard's England, Vol. x, p. 

thought otherwise. At the earnest solicita- 127. The Pope's nuncio made a splendid 

tion of the King, Innocent gave his con- public entry at Windsor, on Sunday, July 

sent. The nuncio, to add to his import- 3d, 1687. His excellency had three coaches, 

ance, was consecrated archbishop of Ama- with six horses apiece in each coach, 

sia by the titular primate of Ireland, in the Immediately after his excellency, in two of 

chapel at Whitehall, and a day was fixed his coaches, were ten priests, his coach 

for his public reception at court in his going empty. After them went the lord 

official character. The duty of introduc- chancellor's, two of the lord president's 

ing him was assigned by James to the duke (Sunderland)^ the lord privy seal's (Clar- 

of Somerset, the first lord of the bedcham- endon), and the lord chamberlain's (Duke 

ber ; but that nobleman objected to the pen- of Norfolk) carriage. There were eighteen 

alty to which he should be exposed; and coaches besides these, with six horses 

when the King offered him a pardon, replied apiece, in which number the Lord Bishop of 

that a pardon promised before the offence Durham's (Crewe) was one, and the Bishop 

was committed, would not be held valid in of Chester's (Cartwright) another. — Somers' 

a court of law. "I would have you," said Tracis, Vol. xx, p. 267. 



414 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

faith to master all. No one enjoj^ed libert}', and the first step to freedom 
was opportunitj'. The Church of England began to mingle its fears with 
its pra3'ers ; the Tories saw that the State would be endangered, on the one 
hand b}' the Papists, and on the other by its connection w^th the Church ; 
the Presb3'terians and Independents soon realized the startling fact that 
Dissenters were either to be punished as schismatics, or compelled to sub- 
mit to spiritual uniformity. All parties became jealous of the ro3'al favor. 
Each imagined that it did not have its due influence at court. To this 
jealousy succeeded fear — fear that none but papists could hope for tolera- 
tion or safet3^ The Church united against Rome as against a common 
enemj^ and then divided against the King, as an impracticable monarch. 
The Tories united to defend the Church and to sustain the King, and then 
divided against both as impracticable antagonists. The dissenters united 
to defend monarch}^, and hoped that political concessions would lead to 
religious toleration, and give peace under a monarch}^ where republicanism 
had failed. Their concessions were treated with indifference and contempt, 
and the folly of the experiment of attempting to compound one-idea differ- 
ences was again practically illustrated. The only party that was not 
expected to unite with these spiritual factions — was the Democratic Part3\ 
It acted occasionally, when action was practicable, but it was marked for 
punishment and destruction. It was said to be dead, but it had risen so 
man}^ times from the grave that its enemies could have no peace so long as 
it had even a nominal existence. Its able and distinguished representatives, 
few in number and destitute of means, excited more terror and created more 
doubt in the minds of their opponents — than all the religious dissenters in 
the kingdom. The Parliament, when it was permitted to act, divided into 
parties corresponding to constituents represented, and it fluctuated in its 
enactments always in harmony" with the dominant power. Each party had 
its turn, and all parties their failures, but no party its freedom. In the 
beginning, the king had the influence of all, and in the end of none. The 
chm'ch, in its unitj^, attempted to administer the government, but failed. 
It succeeded no better in its varied coalitions. It attempted ever}' variety 
of experiment, of concession that could be sanctioned by a reasonable self- 
respect, but it found no cooperative remedy. In despair of agreement, 
parties returned to their original and rigid outlines as to their invulnerable 
citadels, each self-satisfied that it was reserved by God for future good, all 
looking on anarchy as not their work, but the work of Satan. As the sole 
soiu'ce of government the Church had failed. So had the Dissenters. 
AVhen the king found that he could no longer control bodies of men — he 
sought to regain power by approaching individuals. He saw them singlj^, 
he had private interviews with members of Parliament, and thought to 
succeed by his personal influence, by his royal condescension. Society had 
been disorganized, it had lost its vitality by violence and congestion, and it 



JAMES THE SECOND. 415 

"Was in its outward movement for relief. It was in a state of revolution. 
It had a common consciousness, which, w^hile no one could understand, all 
were made to realize. It was a sensitive condition of general discontent. 
Power was lost. No one could control. The king lost his power, and in his 
attempts to regain it — discovered that royalt}- was but a skeleton divested 
of life, and that James the Second was no more than an ordinary man. 
He was no statesman, and could provide no remedj*. He could destro}', 
but he could not build. His numerous minions humbled and disgraced by 
their deeds of blood and perfidy — deserted their royal master to save 
themselves. His endeavors to save the crown and to unite the people were 
pitiful in the extreme. He was too proud to be honest, too weak to be 
brave. He was too superstitious to be practical, too dull to be shrewd. 
He was selfish, stupid and obstinate. Failure in himself was a condition 
of doubt and despondenc3\ He was bewildered. He was ready to consent 
to anj' thing that promised hope, and when he saw the bravest of his advi- 
sers and his own kindred in the ranks of his opponents, his despair sunk 
him into painful imbecility. When others did not seem to care for him, he 
did not appear to care for himself. As an avowed servant of God, he was 
a mj'stery to himself. As a Christian, he found no help in the Church. 
As a man, he saw his equal in the meanest, of his subjects. 

During the reign of James — it was early seen by discriminating minds 
that he was unequal to the administration of government, and that the 
many conflicting sub-divisions of society rendered ultimate harmonj^ imprac- 
ticable. These truths were seen by some of the honest of all parties, 
especially by the statesmen of the Democratic Partj^, who long had been 
proscribed as disloyal subjects, and unsafe advisers to the crown. The 
utter failure of the king to administer the government on constitutional 
principles, was so obvious, and the dangers of misrule and anarch}' so immi- 
nent, — that a large majority of the Free-holders were literally compelled to 
acknowledge the necessity of taking prompt and immediate measures to 
save the government from violence and imbecility-, and the nation from ruin. 
The Whigs controlled the Commons two to one, and the great importance of 
the popular branch of government was fully demonstrated. The Lords, though 
about equall}' divided, united with the Commons in the triumph of princi- 
ple. Part}' and prejudice, hereditary power and the pride of aristocracy 
all combined to render compromise difficult, and almost impossible. The 
time had arrived when the indispensable needs of societ}', the necessities of 
government, the safety of life, the protection of property, and the great 
cause of human freedom and justice — demanded the integrit}^ of motive, the 
skill of statesmanship, the courage of duty, and the bold energies of pat- 
riotism. The spirit of faction and imbecility was rebuked, not b}- party 
language, but b}" the appalling presence of danger. Pride was humbled by 
the dignity of principle, and ambition checked by the failures of weakness 



416 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and ignorance. Demagogues, trembling with fear at their own doings ; 
selfish speculators astounded at the frightful results of corruption and the 
cupidit}' of partisans ; magistrates, who had sold innocence for gold, and 
blood for place ; renegades, who had bartered truth for falsehood, and duty 
for infam}-^, — were suddenly turned back in their course of varied iniqui- 
ties — and compelled to seek safet}' in silence or concealment. The public 
e3^e was inwardl}' turned upon the convulsions of societ}', and everj^ word, 
look and movement of men were watched and scrutinized with painful 
apprehension. Capacity to suffer had been exhausted, patience had ceased 
to be a merit, and forbearance a virtue. 

The part}^ of the court and cabinet, it ma}' be said, had been active in 
three divisions ; 1. The King and Father Petre ^ were united in hoty pas- 
sion to conduct the government in such a way as to extirpate if possible, 
the Protestant heresy, and to establish the divine right of kings. 2. The 
more sensible, and perhaps more selfish Catholics, the Queen, Sunderland 
and others, and these were favored by the Pope, were opposed to the pre- 
cipitant counsels of Petre, who was really the confidential adviser of the 
King. 3. The real Tory party, headed by the Earl of Rochester, and 
inspired hy the Protestant cause, found itself in a helpless condition in the 
midst of professed friends, — and was subjected to severe trials and numer- 
ous divisions. 

Though professing a common loyalty to the crown, this political trio of 
conflicting juntos, motives and ends soon rendered Parliament hostile to the 
special polic}' of the King. Partisan peers were added to the lords, and 
Jeffreys undertook to terrify them into submission to the ro3'al will, but 
without success. 2 Free speech was checked in the Commons by intimida- 
tion, and patriotism was rewarded by lodgings in the Tower.^ The Whigs 



1 Father Petre was an Englishman of answer witnesses and juries, but his arro- 
noble family, uncle to the then Lord Petre. gance, his noise, and his menaces, fell idly 
He was famed neither for his virtue nor his upon the ears of the members of that 
learning, but neither of these qualifications assembly. The indignant scorn with which 
was requisite for the service of James, these noblemen treated this attempt to 
He was a man of daring spirit, and zealous introduce his style of oratory into their 
in the cause of religion : a Jesuit, and pos- house quickly reduced him to his level. — 
sessing the confidence of his order, who Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 415. 

admired in him the boldness and decision ^ When Parliament presented to the King 

which fcAv of them had the courage to imitate, an expostulatory address upon his violations 

Petre had commended himself to the King of law, and his Majesty replied by saying 

during the excitement of the Popish Plot, "he did not expect such an address," Coke, 

as a valuable instrument to be employed in of Derby, animated by patriotic sentiments, 

questionable emergencies. — Risi. of Party, stood up and said, " he hoped they were all 

Vol. I, p. 428. Englishmen, and were not to be frightened 

2 Jeffreys undertook to answer the oppo- out of their duty by a few high words ;'* he 
Bition lords, as he had been accustomed to was immediately sent to the Tower, " for 



JAMES THE SECOND. 



417 



were despondent and quiet, and yet they did not hesitate to encourage the 
Tories according to their professions, though not according to their pleas- 
ure. The masses of the people were ignorant of their political rights, 
though they had sense enough to be disgusted at what they saw and heard, 
but not knowledge enough to apply a remedy. The trial of the bishops dis- 
pla3^ed t}- ranny in high places, and what in patriotic times had been strength 
to the crown was made its greatest danger. The king published and 
re-published his declaration of indulgence, and required " the clergy 
throughout the kingdom to read it in their churches immediately after 
divine service." They almost unanimously refused. Urged on b}^ Petre, 
he added to it an order, which was intended as an insult to the Church. 
They shall eat their own dung, was the insolent expression of the priest, 
adopting a phrase to be found in the Old Testament. The bishops united 
in a petition to the king to recall his order on account of its unconstitu- 
tionality, but this was disloyalty.^ Such an outrage upon the Church 



his indecent and undutiful reflecting on the 
King and this House." The King imme- 
diately prorogued the Parliament, and never 
suffered it again to assemble. — Smyth's 
Mod. Hist. p. 336. 

1 A meeting of the bishops was held at 
Lambeth Palace, and it was resolved to 
petition the King to recall his order. The 
most revered members of the Tory party 
were reluctantly compelled to ignore their 
creed of non-resistance and to acknowl- 
edge the possibility of an illegal preroga- 
tive. The words of the petition were, 
" that the great averseness found in them- 
selves to their distributing and publishing, 
in all their churches, your majesty's late 
declaration for liberty of conscience, pro- 
ceeds neither from any want of duty nor 
obedience to your majesty; our holy 
mother, the Church of England, being, both 
in her principles and her constant practice, 
unquestionably loyal, and having, to her 
great honor, been more than once publicly 
acknowledged to be so by your gracious maj- 
esty ; nor yet from any want of tenderness 
to dissenters, in relation to whom we are 
willing to come to such a temper as shall be 
thought fit, when the matter shall be con- 
sidered and settled in Parliament and Con- 
vocation : but among other considerations, 
from this especially, because that dcclaru- 

27 



tion is founded upon such a dispensing 
power, as hath been often declared illegal 
in Parliament, and particularly in the years 
1662 and 1672, and in the beginning of your 
majesty's reign ; and is a matter of so great 
moment and consequence to the whole 
nation, both in church and state, that your 
petitioners cannot, in common prudence, 
honor, or conscience, so far make them- 
selves parties to it, as the distribution of it 
all over the nation, and the solemn publi- 
cation of it once and again, even in God's 
house, and in the time of divine service, 
must amount to in common and reasonable 
construction." This language gave great 
offence to James, and after some unavailing 
attempts to harmonize differences, the 
bishops were committed to the Tower under 
the charge of having contrived, written and 
published a seditious libel. People of all 
l^arties and classes looked upon this move- 
ment of the King as a great outrage. The 
popular voice may be inferred from the fact, 
that, although they were tried by a packed 
jury — they were acquitted. The verdict 
was an occasion of universal rejoicing. 
Reresby calls the tumultuous shout which 
passed over the kingdom "a very rebellion 
in noise." The huzza from the audience 
in court "was echoed from without," says 
Sir James Mackintosh, " by a shout of joy 



418 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

proved to be an attack upon the people, and gave courage and strength to 
the Whig part3\ The clergy could see no defence but in the prerogatives 
of the pulpit, no remedy but in the gospel of politics, and the people no 
religion but in democracy. 

The King having gained possession of the sword by placing Catholic 
officers over the armj-, — now saw that the repeal of the Test and Habeas 
Corpus Acts was as necessary to his theor}' of government, as their enact- 
ment had been to the freedom of his subjects. To insure success he asked 
the aid of Halifax, — the great and skilful manager of all parties, and the 
consistent friend of none. It was refused. For not doing what even Hali- 
fax saw was impossible — he was dismissed from the cabinet, as if he could 
find comfort and support b}' dishonoring the most pliable of his friends. 
The policy of the king was as fatal to civil freedom as it was treacherous 
to religious libert3\ He was true to neither. He was urged on and 
defended by the priests, and opposed hy the Anglican clergy.^ On losing 
friends in Parliament he dismissed friends from place and council. "James," 
says Cooke, " was now fairly started upon the path which could lead him to 
ruin ; every act he performed onh^ served more completely to alienate the 
part^' which had placed him upon the throne." When he found that the lords 
and commons no longer gave heed to his fanaticism, nor complied with his 
wishes, he i:)rorogued Parliament as dangerous to his kingdom. The church 
had no power without toryism, and toryism could not act and be consistent 
with itself. The advocates of passive obedience were compelled to 
acknowledge the right of resistance, and James found to his amazement 
and chagrin that the Whig and Torj^ parties were united against the court, 
and that Papacy was without power. But he was not to be convinced 
either of his folly or weakness. He made a vain attempt to restrain the 



which sounded like a crack of the ancient King James, because they set the spirits of 

and massy roof of Westminster Hall;" "but men, which were moving only slowly 

the most terrible echo of that shout," says before, in an instant in a ferment." — 

Cooke, "which resounded in the ears of the Memoirs, Vol. hi, p. 113. More properly 

baffled tyrant, was that which was caught speaking, — these were among the many 

up by the troops that surrounded him at causes of many years. 

Hounslow, and filled the camp with cheers i The controversial writings and private 

which no military discipline could restrain — efforts at Proselytism made by the priests, 

this outward burst told him that his sol- were met by corresponding efforts on the 

diers sympathized with the citizens." The part of the Anglican clergy. Tillotson, 

Eoman nuncio describes the scene as an Stillingfleet, Jenison, Patrick, Sherlock, 

"impious outrage against religion," in Williams, Claget, Gee, Aldrich, Atterbury, 

terms of unspeakable horror. — Lingard, Whitby, Wake, Hooper; names which are 

Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 444. Dalrymple yet familiar to all who reverence piety, or 

says, " There is no doubt that the petition admire learning; were earnest in the con- 

and imprisonment of the Bishops were the test. — Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 418. 
immediate causes of the dethronement of 



JAMES THE SECOND. 419 

publication of works against papacy. He catechised his judges in regard 
to the validity of the king's dispensing power, and boasted " that he could 
find twelve judges of his opinion." ^ Losing by degrees the constitutional 
aids provided for the dignity and efficiency of the government, the King next 
assumed the exercise of his full prerogative as the supreme head of the 
Church of England, and under this pretence he established his ecclesiasti- 
cal commission, so well known for its illegality and tyranny. Bancroft, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, Crewe, Bishop of Durham, Sprat, Bishop of 
Rochester, the Earl of Rochester, the lord chief justice, were members of 
this court, and Jeffreys was made the president, without whose presence no 
business could be performed. The business to be performed by this con- 
clave could safely be trusted to no management but his.^ " God," said 
the King to Barillon, " has permitted that all the laws made to establish 
Protestantism, now serve as a foundation for my measures to establish true 
religion, and give me a right to exercise more extensive power than other 
Catholic princes possess in the ecclesiastical affairs of their dominions."^ 

Thus, again, it is seen that chaos is the fruit of unprincipled parties, 
whether they act separately or together. It is seen, also, that the Church 
is helpless to meet an emergency, or to avert a danger, unless it adapts 
itself to the ordinarj^ means which are ordained by the judgment of good 
men to protect society in its wants and needs. It is seen, likewise, how 
defeated partisans are made to surrender to, and distracted partisans are 
led wholly to rely upon — the democratic party. To see how party trim- 
mers become lost in their political reckoning when parties are dissolved 
into nothingness by their treacher}^ to principle. When the people honest- 
1}^ combine to act, and boldly to speak, then the beneficent spirit of safety, 
like the light of the rising sun, is seen by every eye in every object and 
person, and found giving distinct outlines to every path. 

In this season of doubt and darkness — there was but one party that 
stood united and erect upon the solid basis of principle, and that was the 
party of the people. It stood alone and unchanged. It had the proud 
distinction of being honored by all the parties that had presumed to stig- 
matize its character, or to misrepresent its records. Its statesmen were 
respected, and all were ready to honor and trust them. The Church found 
no power in its zeal, and the Tory no relief in its pride. They detested 
the men they needed the most, but their unprovided needs admitted not 
even the poor indulgence of a common indifference. Some few, who were 
blinded by bigotry, and stinted by the unmeaning complacency of self-right- 
eousness, — assumed to be the subjects of a " higher law," and chose to wait 



1 Hist, of Party, Yol, i, p. 421. 3 Mackintosh, p. 66, from Fox's Mss. 

2 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 421. 



420 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

for special signs from heaven to direct their speech and action. Such men 
are always to be found in all ages, and they are generally permitted to die 
in ignorance of their own mission. It is a mercy to them that the}" are 
not enabled to see that they have the most influence when they say the 
least, and accomplish most when they do the least. That they have a 
place in Providence, no man can reasonably den}", but it is more like the 
vacuum in phj^sics — than the active power that fills it. It is a useful nec- 
essity, but not the proudest distinction.^ 

When James consented to the marriage of his daughter Marj' — to 
William, Prince of Orange, he did not suppose that a mere permissory act 
would prove to be more than his wisest judgment.^ It was not enough to 
find that ro^-alty was insufficient for the high purposes of government, and 
that the difficulties of the nation were mainly caused by departures from 
democracy. A further step was seen to be necessary, not to subvert the 
form of the government, but to administer it upon democratic principles, 
and to place upon the throne a democratic king. In this case Protestant- 
ism became an ally to Democracy, as Catholicism had in other periods. 
William could not claim the crown, but his wife was competent to confer 
it upon him. Her amiableness of temper, and her unrequited afiections for 
her husband, whose marriage vows were uttered but not redeemed, — led 
her to declare that he should be the first on the throne as she had acknowl- 
edged him first at the altar. Not but others had a superior claim to the 
succession, to his wife — but her title w^as made good by the recognition of 
principle, and not by hereditable tenure. 

William had distinguished himself as a democrat, and all eyes were 
turned to him for relief. Burnet was in Holland to do his part, and Dyck- 
velt and Zuyleste3^ne in England to do theirs.^ It is the opinion of Dalrym- 
ple that many had a part in this revolution, but this is doubted. '' Among 



1 In a letter of Lord Halifax to the Prince church hath yet showed to us. Every 

of Orange, who was ever ready to act with attempt turneth back upon them." — Bal- 

the slow or fast of all parties, whenever he rymple, Vol. hi, p. 124. 

could see an opportunity to serve himself, 2 " Charles the Second," says Prof. Smyth, 

he says, "nothing, in the present conjunc- "in a most fortunate moment of improvi- 

ture can be more dangerous than unskilful dence, had suffered his minister Danby to 

agitators, warm men, who would be active connect the Prince of Orange with the 

at a wrong time, and want patience to keep royal family of England. If James had no 

their zeal from running away with them." children, the wife of William thus became 

In speaking of the progress of such men, first in succession. Even if he had, she 

he says, — " In some particulars, to men at remained so in case the direct male line was 

a distance, the engine seemeth to move fast, to be departed from." — 3Iodern History, p. 

but by looking nearer, one may see it doth 337. 

not stir upon the whole matter, so that 3 At the commencement of 1687 the 

there is a rapid motion without advanc- Prince of Orange had sent Dyckvelt to 

ing a step, which is the only miracle that England as his ambassador, a man well 



JAMES THE SECOND. 42l 

the letters produced by Dahymple," says Prof. Smyth, " there are more 
from the Tory lords than could have been looked for ; but the association 
for joining William, if he came over, was, after all, not sent till the end of 
June, 1688 ; — he landed in November ; — and was, at last only signed in 
cypher by four lords, Devonshire, Danbj^, Shrewsbuiy, and Lumley ; two 
commoners, Mr. Sidney and Admiral Russell ; and one bishop, the Abdiel 
of the Bench, Compton, then Bishop of London." In their letter to the 
Prince of Orange, they say, that " there are nine parts of twenty of the 
people throughout the kingdom who are desirous of a change ; i * * * 
that much the greatest part of the nobilit}' and gentr^^ are as much dissatis- 
fied ; * * * and very many of the common soldiers do daily show such 
an aversion to the Popish religion, that there is the greatest probability 
imaginable of great numbers of deserters which would come from them 
[the government] should there be such an occasion ; and amongst the sea- 
men, it is almost certain, that there is not one in ten who would do them 
an}' service in such a war." '^ 

While the King was struggling hard to satisfy his friends, and propitiate 
his enemies, the Prince of Orange was acquiring means and collecting troops 
with extraordinary^ diligence to invade England. To justify his course to 
the world he published a Declaration of considerable length, setting forth 
the man}' grievances of the people, the tyranny of the crown, and his 
motives for attempting to supply a remedy. He said, " The greatness and 
security both of kings, royal families, and of all such as are in authority, 
as well as the happiness of their subjects and people, depend in a most 
especial manner upon the exact observation and maintenance of these their 



informed as to his intentions, and faithful mosity against France. To this man first 
to his interests. In a letter of Mr. Fitz- the Whig, then the Tory leaders resorted. 
Patrick to the Prince, he says of Dyckvelt, They continued to communicate with him, 
"His great prudence, and the zeal he is and afterwards with his successor, Count 
believed to have for your highness and the Zuylesteyne, as one national party. Dur- 
princess, has got hira the universal good ing the same year, and the commencement 
opinion of all parties here, though differing of the next, the Bishops of London, Bath, 
never so much in their religions, which Bristol, and St. Asaph; and among the 
your highness will easily find by the free- temporal peers, Shrewsbury, Devonshire, 
dom with which they have communicated Bath, Halifax, Bedford, Nottingham, Lum- 
their innermost thoughts, hopes and fears ley, Mordaunt, Danby, Rochester, Church- 
to him." — Dalrymple, Vol. ii, p. 194. " It ill, and even Sunderland, men of every 
was the business of this agent," says Cooke, shade of politics — are found in active cor- 
*' besides the ostensible negotiation with respondence with the Prince." — Hist, of 
which he was intrusted, to mark the course Party ^ Vol. i, p. 458. See Dairy mjple'' s 
of popular feeling in the country ; to hold Memoirs, Vol. ii, Appendix, 
frequent communication with the Protestant i This single fact confirms all that is 
party ; to encourage them in their opposi- claimed for Democracy, 
tion to Popery ; and to nourish their ani- 2 Dalrymple, Vol. hi, p. 136. 



422 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Laws, Liberties and Customs. — Upon these grounds it is that we cannot any 
lono-er forbear to declare, that, to our great regret, we see that those coun- 
sellors, who have now the chief credit with the king, have overturned the 
Religion, Laws and Liberties of those realms, and subjected them, in all 
things relating to their Consciences, Liberties and Properties, to arbitrary' 
government ; and that not only by secret and indirect ways, but in an 
open and undisguised manner." ^ 

The immediate effect of this Declaration in favor of popular rights w^as 
to induce the King to make such concessions as would neutralize the prom- 
ises of William. This w^as followed b}^ a second Declaration from William, 
in which he warns the people against " the imperfect redress which is 
offered," and reminds them of the solemn promises of the past which the 
King had broken, and that they could find no relief from despotism "but 
in Parliament." " Therefore it is," he concludes, "that we have thought fit 
to declare, that we will refer all to a free Assembly of the nation, in a law- 
ful Parliament."^ These Declarations were answered by James, who 
charged William with usurpation, and called upon " his loving subjects to 
join with him in the suppressing and repelling of his enemies and rebellious 
subjects."^ 

The Prince also addressed a letter to the officers of the English Army, 
and Admiral Herbert, and b}' his order, another to the English fleet. These 
letters were published in London, the design of which was to inform the 
Army and Navy of his true intentions. The officers, soldiers and seamen 
were conjured not to suffer themselves to be abused by a false notion of 
honor, to serve their King contrary to the manifest interest of their coun- 
tr3^ These letters, according to Rapin, " had a wonderful effect on the 
officers, soldiers, and sailors, so that from this time they resolved not to 
draw their swords in so wrongful a quarrel." 

On the 5th of November — the army of William landed at Torbay — 
and without opposition. The events of this invasion, the positive character 
of the invaders, and the passive character of the invaded — were remarka- 
ble and deserve special attention. With an army of only twenty thou- 
sand, and with no alliance to promise more, to move against a force of 
double the number, and under circumstances of disadvantage, — and with 
the certainty of aid from France, should it be asked or permitted, discov- 
ered a courage and a confidence most extraordinary. The King was evi- 
dentl3' indisposed to credit the rumors respecting the invasion, and made 
no appeals to his army to oppose it. He became disheartened and desper- 
ate. He caused the great seal to be thrown into the Thames,^ and ordered 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. v, p. 2. 3 ibid, Vol. v, p. 15. 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. v, p. 2. * Next to the Prince of "Wales the chief 



JAMES THE SECOND. 42S 

his arraj^ to be disbanded. Sacrifice was nothing, if all could be sacrificed 
alike. He practically adopted the motto " rule or ruin," though some of 
the Tories were faithful to the last, and ready to restore to power a monarch 
whose acts of tyranny were only exceeded by his acts of folly and coward- 
ice. He saw nothing but danger at home, and he was willing to increase 
that danger if he could but escape to a foreign place of safety. It was 
for the interest of Louis to aid him as he had ample reason to believe, and 
after repeated and humiliating attempts he escaped to France, — having 
sent the Queen and her infant son before him. They were received by 
Louis with every demonstration of respect suited to their high birth and 
station, and every provision was made for their comfort and dignity that 
royal munificence could provide. 

Here was a new state of affairs. The Tories ever ready to evade popu- 
lar duties and to assert the technicalities of constructive freedom, "renewed 
their doctrines of passive obedience and the indefeasible tenure of the 
crown. Scripture, law, custom, seemed equally to confirm their tenets." 
Their old maxims of government were repeated, but with no belief what- 
ever that they could be reduced to practice. On the departure of the King 
from the country — a new question arose. The democrats, who largely con- 
trolled the Commons, submitted the following proposition : — " That King 
James the Second, having endeavored to subvert the Constitution of the 
Kingdom by breaking the original contract between King and people, and 
loj the advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the fun- 
damental laws, and having withdrawn himself out of this Kingdom, had 
abdicated the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant." ^ 

This was a mixed proposition, and an illogical one. The premises did 
not strictly warrant the conclusion. The democratic principle of contract 
between the King and people was clearl}^ recognized, and the fact of a 
religious contest was asserted in partisan language. The King did not 
withdraw in a sense that abdication would imply, and that the throne was 



object of anxiety was the great seal. To instrument drawn up in legal form. To his 

that symbol of kingly authority jurists have general, Feversham, he wrote a letter which 

always ascribed a peculiar and almost mys- could be understood only as a command to 

terious importance. It was kept within a disband the army. On his way to France, 

few yards of his own closet. Before his he was conveyed to Milbank, where he 

flight James was resolved to do all he could crossed the Thames in a small wherry. As 

to inflict the evils of anarcliy upon the he passed Lambeth he flung the great seal 

people. He found comfort in revenge. He into the midst of the stream, whence, after 

ordered the great seal and the writs for the many months, it was accidentally caught by 

new Parliament to be brought to his apart- a fishing net and dragged up." — See3Iacau- 

ment. The writs which could be found he lay, Vol. ii, pp. 486, 508. 

threw into the fire. Those which had i Pari. Deb., Vol, v, p. 50. 
already been sent out he annulled by an 



424 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

vacant in consequence of such an act was not warranted. It was not legal 
abdication. That the democrats should attempt to declare it legal is not 
surprising. The^^ asserted the great principles of democracy, and by the 
logic of events — they desired to establish a precedent that should relieve 
the government from an unfaithful servant in view of his acts, and without 
regard to his language. This was right, in principle, though perhaps it 
was too much to ask of the Church and Tory Parties, who were evidently 
resolved upon a regenc}', or upon any course rather than acknowledge ^ 
basis of government practically inconsistent with their views of passive 
obedience. The proposition, however, was passed by the Commons, and 
without a division. When sent to the Lords, it was opposed b}^ the Tories, 
but with no distinct purpose to offer a substitute, except the impracticable 
proposition of a regencj^, which would have involved new difficulties with- 
out providing a remedy. Some were said to be indisposed, some were 
absent, but the vote was a democratic victory fifty-one to forty-nine.^ At 
the next meeting of the Lords — the first and most important paragraph of 
the proposition was debated, singly, and adopted by a majority of seven, 
fifty-three to fort3'-six, a gain of four. After much discussion, and a 
labored conference, the paragraph, " that the throne was vacant " was lost, 
forty-four to fifty-five, and the word " deserted " was substituted for " abdi- 
cated." 2 The debates which took place on the minor premises and conclu- 
sion of this proposition discovered much logical acuteness and learning, 
and as some authors have impatiently expressed it — on " frivolous topics." 
It cannot be justly said that the topics were frivolous, when it is the proper 
business of statesmen to employ appropriate and exact language in all 
legislative proceedings.^ In this case, the Democrats could well afford to 
concede to the Tories all that they asked, as to verbal distinctions, so long 
as they recognized a principle that was superior to language. They con- 
sented to the overthrow of their own party that the nation might be res- 
tored to life by democracy. This was the revolution of 1688. Thus, again, 
roj-alty failed to save either itself, or the nation, and toryism became pow- 
erless when the people acted for themselves."^ 



1 Lord Churchill, afterwards the great conducted themselves through all these 
Duke of Marlborough, and a few others, transactions with a temper which no political 
chose to be indisposed; Sancroft, the arch- party ever before showed." — Modern Hist., 
bishop, in like manner, to be absent. Of p. 347. 

the fourteen bishops that attended, two * In a debate on the state of the nation, 

only, Bristol and London, voted with the in the House of Commons, January 29th, 

Whigs.— Pro/. Smyth. 1689— Col. Birch used the following lan- 

2 See Pari. Deb., Vol. v. guage : — "When I consider the extraordi- 

3 "On the whole," says Prof. Smyth, "it nary hand of God that brought us hither, and 
must be confessed that the Whig leaders the freedom we are here met in, it amazes 



JAMES THE SECOND. 425 

This union of the best and worst men of all parties in favor of democ- 
racy was not a political amalgamation, nor was it a coalition, nor a com- 
promise in the ordinary sense of these terms. Such combinations are gen- 
erally supposed to indicate conceding adjustments of separate interests, or 
separate lines of policy united on conditions, or concerted action of per- 
sons upon special promises of advantage. In other words, the meaning of 
such terms, is, that conflicting parts may be brought together, each preserv- 
ing its own distinctive features, in a common whole for a temporary end, 
but with no promise, or even hopes of permanent harmony. The applica- 
tion of opposite principles in the same thing msiy be suspended by agree- 
ment for a special, or a common end, — but such principles cannot be 
practicall}' combined in unit}^, any more than harmonj^ can be deduced 
from discord, or order from chaos. Right and wrong, truth and error, are 
unalterable conditions of incompatibility. Progressive causes possess no 
elements of reversion, — although incitements to investigation are often 
found in obstacles to progress. Such men as Somers,^ Devonshire, Bed- 
ford, Shrewsburj^ and their honest followers, had nothing to alter. They 
had been right, and were so still, and they were ready for instant action. 
Such men as James, Jeffreys, Sunderland, Nottingham, Halifax, and their 
followers, who had been Tories, and were so still, had no choice but to 
confess their errors and crimes,^ and surrender unconditionall}-, not to dem- 
ocrats, but to the protecting power of democratic principles. These, alone, 
it was conceded by all, were sufficient for the emergency, not as a revolu- 
tionar}^ remedy, but as an eternal basis upon which all good governments 
must stand. 

James was willing openl}^ to promise everj- thing, though secretly resolved 



me ; and I am not able to comprehend this with a high reputation for capacity, integri- 
work of God in such an extraordinary man- ty, and diligence, and was in all respects 
ner ; and, concerning King James's depos- the greatest man I had ever known in that 
ing himself, it is the hand of God. These post." He is recorded in Walpole's Koyal 
forty years we have been scrambling for and Noble Authors, as " one of those divine 
our Religion, and we have saved but little men, who, like a chapel in a palace, re- 
ef it. We have been striving against Anti- mained unprofaned, while all the rest is 
Christ, Popery and Tyranny." — Pari. Deb., tyranny, corruption and folly." He was 
Vol. V, p. 51. always a Whig. — See Pari, Deb., Vol. v, 

1 Afterwards the great Lord Somers. He p. 42. 

was born at Worcester in 1652. He was 2 in speaking of the Declaration of Right, 

educated at a private school in Staflford- prepared by a committee of which Lord 

shire, and then entered at Trinity College, Somers was chairman, Macaulay says, — 

Oxford, from which he removed to the Mid- " The Declaration began by recapitulating 

die Temple. He was highly distinguished the crimes and errors which had made a 

as an able and eloquent pleader. He is revolution necessary." — Hist, of England^ 

spoken of in terms of admiration by Burnet. Vol. ii, p. 605. See Pari. Deb., Vol. y. 
He says, " He held the seals seven years, 



426 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

to do nothing.^ He was ready to substitute general pardon for contempla- 
ted acts of revenge ; to give up the Court of High Commission, and to 
summon a free Parliament ; to reinstate proscribed officials, and to restore 
the chartered rights of cities ; to redress all grievances, even to make great 
sacrifices, to meet the democratic demands of the people. His partisan 
ministers saw and acknowledged the necessity of such a surrender, — and 
j-et the}^ sj'mpathized with their royal master in the concealed hopes of 
treacher}', and acquired confidence in the delusive promises of duplicity'. 
On the other hand, the Prince of Orange had an instinctive sagacity to 
reject without violence, all propositions of compromise, seeing that the 
party which had been so false to the British Constitution had no power to help 
the nation but by entire submission to opposite counsels. He abandoned 
the part}^ to itself in its weakness, that its record and end might be asso- 
ciated with disgrace together. He was not, as Macaulay supposes, " the 
soul of a mighty coalition," but the soul of a party whose power was that 
of principle, and whose action was the great cause of justice. Cook thinks, 
that " the originators of this revolution were, perhaps, the two best repre- 
sentatives of the two national parties which could have been chosen." The 
two referred to were, the Earl of Devonshire, who was a Whig, and Lord 
Danby, who was a Tory. In confirmation of this view he quotes some 
lines from Dr. Akenside's Ode, addressed to the Earl of Huntingdon, and 
the following note of explanation : — "At Whittington, a village on the 
edge of Scarsdale in Derbyshire, the Earls of Devonshire and Danby, with 
the Lord Delameer, privately concerted the plan of the revolution. The 
house in which they met is at present a farm-house, and the country people 
distinguish the room where they sat by the name of the plotting-parlor." 
This was only an incident. A comprehensive view of the subject may be 
found in the declaration which the Earl of Devonshire delivered to the 
mayor of Derby, and in another which was subscribed by a great number 
of the nobility and gentry at Nottingham, evincing much courage and set- 
ting forth the great truths of democracy.^ A more extended and sj'stem- 
atic analysis, however, is given by Guizot : — " The History of the Revolu- 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. v, p. 21. Hist, of with the Prince of Orange, for the recovery- 
Party, Vol. I, p. 402. passim. of their almost ruined laws, liberties and 

2 The Devonshire paper briefly recites religion. And herein they hoped all good 
the political calamities of the period, and Protestant subjects would, with their lives 
declares the right of resistance. The and fortunes, be assistant to them, and not 
Nottingham paper more boldly asserts, be bug-beared with the opprobrious terms of 
"That not being willing to deliver their rebels, by which the court would fright 
posterity over to such a condition of Popery them to become perfect slaves to their 
and Slavery, as their oppressions inevitably tyrannical insolences and usurpations. For 
threatened, they would, to the utmost of ' they assured themselves, that no rational 
their power, oppose the same, by joining and unbiassed person would judge it Rebel- 



WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE. 427 

tion of England," he says, " comprises three grand periods. In the first, 
under Charles I. (1625-1649), the Revolution was preparing, was put 
forth, and took its stand. In the second, under the Long Parliament and 
Cromwell (1649 — 1660), it essayed to found its own form of government, 
which it called a Republic, and fell in the attempt. The third period is 
that of monarchical re-action, successful for a while, under Charles II., who, 
in his cautious selfishness, aimed at nothing beyond his own personal enjoy- 
ment, but ruined by the blind passion of James II., who aimed at absolute 
power. In 1688, England achieved the point she aimed at in 1640, and 
quitted the career of revolution for that of liberty." ^ This outline is a 
Tory's concession to democracy. 

To understand this revolution it is necessary to know the character of 
William. He was a remarkable man. In religion — he was a Calvinist, 
the religion of his ancestors. His favorite tenet was predestination, and 
the great importance which he attached to the doctrine — may serve to 
account for his early and fixed determination to advance the cause of free- 
dom, and to wear the British crown. In his belief it was to be so, and 
whether to wait, or to act — his purpose was unalterable, his courage and 
wisdom adequate for all emergencies. He boldly claimed the right to 
express his own opinions, and he promptly conceded the same right to 
others. In j'outh he manifested a deep interest in public affairs, and 
discussed them with an ability not surpassed by the fathers of the common- 
wealth. 

" At twenty-one," says Macaulay, "in a day of gloom and terror, he was 
placed at the head of the administration. At twenty-three he was 
renowned throughout Europe as a soldier and politician. He had put 
domestic factions under his feet ; he w^as the soul of a mighty coalition ; 
and he had contended with honor in the field against some of the greatest 
generals of the age." 

From early childhood to manhood — he suffered from physical weakness 
and disease, and yet his powerful will annihilated pain as an obstacle, and 



lion to defend their Laws and Keligion, doubted not of all honest men's assistance, 

which all English princes have sworn at and humbly hope for, and implored the 

their coronation ; which oath, how well it great God's protection, that turned the 

hath been observed of late, they desired a hearts of people as pleased him best ; it 

free Parliament might have the considera- having been observed, that people could 

tion of. They indeed own it rebellion to never be of one mind without his inspira- 

resist a king governed bylaw; but he was tion, which had in all ages confirmed that 

always accounted a tyrant that made his observation, ^Vox popuU est vox Dei.' — 

will his law; and to resist such an one they Farl. Deb., Vol. v, p. 17. 

justly esteemed no rebellion, but a neces- i Hist of Eng. Revolution, Preface to 

sary defence ; and on this consideration they Edition of 1841. 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

■weakness as a difficulty. He had a passionate and sensitive nature, but Ms 
self-possession always secured him an undisturbed serenity. He was capa- 
ble of deep love and deep sorrow. Though of a passionate disposition, — 
he was never lost to justice or magnanimity. His remarkable foresight and 
conscious strength to accomplish his patriotic mission — cannot be too much 
admired or over-estimated. He was surrounded by difficulties and dan- 
gers — which could neither be seen nor measured. That the author may 
not be accused of extravagant language to create an ideal hero to serve 
a theor}', — he is induced to quote a writer of distinguished abilitj^, whose 
lectures in England have gained him a high reputation in America.^ He 
says, — " But here we ought certainly to ask, how, after all, was the Prince 
of Orange to attempt any regular enterprise against the crown of England ? 
Observe his difficulties, and 3'ou will then understand his merit. He 
was at the head of only a small republic ; that republic had been 
reduced, but a few years before, to the very last extremities by the 
arms of Louis. How was William to prepare an expedition, and not be 
observed by the French and English monarchs ? How to prosecute it, and 
not be destroyed b}^ their power ? If he attacked England with a small 
force, how was he to resist James ? If with a large one, how was Holland, 
in his absence, to resist Louis ? In either case how was he to extricate 
himself from the English and French fleets, which might prevent his land- 
ing in the first place, or at least render his return impossible in the second? 
How could he expect that the English who had so long contended for the 
empire of the seas with their great rivals, the Dutch, would forego the 
triumph of a naval victor}^, if it was once put within their reach ? How was 
William to trust to the representations of the English patriots, who might 
be suspected of judging of their countr^-men through the medium of their 
own wishes and resentments ? How was he to expect, even if he landed, 
that the gentry and nobility would hazard their lives and fortunes by 
appearing in arms, when only seven of them had as yet ventured, by any dis- 
tinct act,to incur the guilt of treason? What spirit of freedom, much more 
of resistance, had the nation show^n, now for seven years, since the political 
victory of Charles the Second over the Exclusionists ? Monmouth, the idol 
of the English populace, had just been destroyed by James without diffi- 
culty ; so had Argyle. What was to be expected from a country that was 
loud, indeed, in their abuse of Poperj^ but whose pulpits, and public meet- 
ings, and courts of justice, resounded with the doctrines of passive 
obedience, and whose very Parliaments seemed to admit the same fatal 
principles." 

*' Put the case that William should even succeed so far as to oblige James 



iProf. Smyth. 



WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE. 429 

to call a Parliament, give up his illegal pretensions, and promise conform- 
ity to the laws in future. To what end or purpose, as far as William him- 
self was concerned? What benefit was to accrue to /tim, but the mere 
libertj' of returning ? While James was to be left, in silence and at his 
leisui'e, to wait for more favorable times, watch his opportunities, recover 
his authority, and persecute and destroy, one by one, all who had contribu- 
ted to resist or modify his prerogative." ^ 

It will certainly not be out of place to insert here a passage from 
Buckle : — " It is indeed," says he, '' difficult to conceive the full amount of 
the impetus given to English civilization hy the expulsion of the House of 
Stuart. Among the most immediate results, may be mentioned the limits 
that were set to the loyal prerogative ; ^ the important steps that were 
taken towards religious toleration ; ^ the remarkable and permanent 
improvement in the administration of justice ; ^ the final abolition of a cen- 
sorship over the press ; ^ and, what has not excited sufficient attention, the 
rapid growth of those great monetary interests by which, as we shall here- 
after see, the prejudices of the superstitious classes have in no small degree 
been counterbalanced.^ These are the main characteristics of the reign of 
William III. ; a reign often aspersed, and little understood,"^ but of which 
it may be truly said, that, taking its difficulties into due consideration, it 
is the most successful and the most splendid recorded in the history of any 
country." ^ 

The determination of Parliament to return the government to its consti- 
tutional standard, and the willingness of the Prince of Orange to respond 
to its call, and his ability to comprehend their wants, and to provide the 
means to meet them, — are great and instructive facts. 

When he arrived at St. James, the public mind was in a state of the 
greatest excitement. Though the troops had been stationed with particu- 
lar reference to special duties, and all were confident of speedy relief, it 
was natural that fear should be blended with hope, and that apprehensions 
of danger should abate the apparent means of safety. He was received 
with demonstrations of joy and respect, and the leading men of all parties 



1 Modern History, p. 339. Vol. rr, pp. 121, 122; Pari. Deb., Vol. 

2 See Somers' Tracts, Vol. x, pp. 263, xvii, p. 994 ; Hunt's Hist, of Newspapers, 
264. Mahon'sHist. of England, Vol. i,p. 9. Vol. i, pp. 161, 162; Somers' Tracts, Vol. 

3 The Toleration Act, passed 1689, was xiii, p. 155 ; also, Macaulay's England, 
called by the dissenters their Magna 6 See Hist of Party, Vol. ii, pp. 5, 148 ; 
Charta. Sinclair's Hist, of Revenue, Vol. hi, pp. 

* See Campbell's Chancellors, Vol. i, pp. 6, 9. 

102, 355, and his Chief Justics, Vol. ii, pp. "* See Alhson's Hist, of Europe, Vol. vii, 

95, 116, 118, 136, 142, 143. p. 5. 

5 This was effected before the end of the 8 Hist, of Civilization in England, Vol. i, 

17th century. See Campbell's Chancellors, p. 289. 



430 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

were there, each to see which could honor him the most. " The lawyers 
paid their homage/' sa3's Macaulay, " headed by Maynard, who, at ninety 
3'ears of age, was as alert and clear headed as when he stood up in West- 
minster Hall to accuse Strafford. " Mr. Seargent," said the Prince, " you 
must have survived all the lawj^ers of your standing.'* " Yes, sir," said 
the old man, " and but for 3^our highness, I should have survived the 
law's too." ^ 

'* But," continues Macaulaj^, " though the addresses were numerous and 
full of eulog}^, though the acclamations were loud, though the illumina- 
tions w^ere splendid, though St. James' Palace was too small for the crowd 
of courtiers, though the theatres were every night, from the pit to the ceil- 
ing, one blaze of orange ribbons, William felt that the difficulties of his 
enterprise were but beginning. He had pulled a government down. The 
far harder task of re-construction was now to be performed." ^ 

This view of Macaulaj^, it is humbly conceived, is not a correct one. 
William had not " pulled a government down." This had been done by 
James, and it was the mission of William to restore it. It was restoration 
not re-construction. It is true, it was restoration with additional safe- 
guards, but all that was democratic was retained, with the super-addition of 
results of progress and experience. A government has no identity except 
in a definite constitution, and that identity is lost the moment the consti- 
tution is violated. England was not conquered,but its lost rule restored. 
A country may lose its liberties by a revolution ending in despotism. Or 
a despotism may be conquered by the spirit of freedom. These are funda- 
mental changes, and restoration, or re-construction is the process. A re- 
bellion, however, against a constitutional government, ceases when it is 
mastered, — and the government remains intact, untouched, unchanged. A 
conqueror of forces arrayed against a constitutional government cannot des- 
troy rights existing before a rebellion, nor can he assume new rights after a 
rebellion b}^ virtue of his success. A military power that claims absolute 
control as an element of conquest is the tyranny of war, not the war of 
peace. This was the doctrine of the barbarous ages, when the protective 
principles of democracy were but little understood. It was the power of 
might, not of right. That it was understood b}^ William is made clear 
both by his language and his acts. In this — Macaulay fails to do him jus- 
tice, and to be consistent with himself. He saj^s, — 

" The feeling with which William regarded France explains the whole 
of his policy toward England. His public spirit was a European public 
spirit. The chief object of his care was not our island, not even his native 
Holland, but the great community of nations threatened with subjugation 
by one too powerful member. Those who commit the error of considering 



1 Hist, of England, Vol. ii, p. 540. 2 ibid. 



WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE. 431 

him as an English statesman must necessarily see his whole life in a 
false light, and will be unable to discover any principle, good or bad, 
Whig or Tory, to which his most important acts can be referred." 

It must be admitted, that if the lesser does not include the greater, it is 
certain the greater includes the lesser. His " European public spirit " was 
as good for England as for Europe, and if he had not joined the Whigs of 
England in their views and policy he could not have accomplished his more 
extended mission. He chose the good and avoided the bad, he preferred 
the Whig, and rejected the Tory, — and hence, it may be said — his states- 
manship was as complete for England as it was for Europe. A democratic 
statesman is a statesman for all countries alike. A man who is ambitious 
to control without reference to patriotic motives, or principles of right, 
cannot be called a statesman in the highest sense of the term. All the 
motives ascribed by Macaulaj^ to William in his intercourse with Charles 
the Second, James the Second, with Louis and Monmouth, — are not incon- 
sistent with the highest patriotism. The highest patriotism begins at home 
and acquires a power to be useful abroad. Its usefulness abroad embraces 
home as an element of its action, the very principle of national success. 
That his comprehensive mind should be directed to the affairs of other 
nations, and that he would be excited by acts of official discourtesy^ or 
injustice, and be led to remedy and resent such acts was not onl}^ natural 
but commendable. Indeed, this view is consistent with the expressed views 
of Macaulay himself — when he concludes his eloquent remarks on the 
French monarch}' — that the God of Gideon " had raised up William of 
Orange to be the champion of all free nations and of all pure churches." And 
in speaking of his devotion to dut}', and his indifference to death, he sa3's, — 
" The ardor and perseverance with which he devoted himself to his mission 
have scarcely any parallel in history. In comparison with his great object, 
he held the lives of other men as cheap as his own. It was but too much the 
habit, even of the most humane and generous soldiers of that age, to think 
very lightly of the bloodshed and devastation inseparable from great mar- 
tial exploits ; and the heart of William was steeled, not onl}^ b}- profes- 
sional insensibilit}', but b}' that sterner insensibility which is the effect of a 
sense of dut}^" 

No greater compliment could be uttered. The insensibilit}^ which is the 
effect of a sense^ of duty, is the highest patriotism. The meaning is 
obvious, — though to connect insensibility with a sense of dut}' — is to speak 
of the soul in its highest condition of sentiment as the lowest. Duty 
implies integrit}- of purpose, and consistency of action, — comprehending 
alike the judgment and the affections, the moral and religious sentiments. 

When the crown was offered to William and Mary, at Whitehall, both 
houses joined in a Declaration, giving explicit reasons for such a movement, 
and they constitute a sort of indictment of the people against their King : 



432 nisTORY OF democracy. 

" "Whereas the late king, James the Second, bj the assistance of clivers evil 
counsellors, judges, and ministers, emplo3'ed by him, did endeavor to sub- 
vert and extirpate the Protestant religion, and the laws and liberties of this 
kingdom ; b}' assuming and exercising a power of dispensing with and 
suspending of laws, and the execution of laws, without consent of Parlia- 
ment ; b}' committing and prosecuting divers worthy prelates, for humbly 
petitioning to be excused from concurring to the said assumed power ; — by 
issuing and causing to be executed, a commission, under the great seal, for 
erecting a court called ' The Court of Commissioners for Ecclesiastical 
Causes ; ' b}' levying money for and to the use of the crown, by pretence of 
prerogative, for other time and in other manner than the same was granted b}' 
Parliament ; by raising and keeping a standing armj' within the kingdom, 
in time of peace, without consent of Parliament, and quartering soldiers 
contrary" to law ; by causing several good subjects, being Protestants, to be 
disarmed, at the same time when Papists were both armed and employed 
contrary to law ; b}^ violating of members to serve in Parliament ; bj- pros- 
ecutions in the Court of King's Bench for matters and causes cognizable 
onl}^ in Parliament ; and b}^ divers other arbitrar}^ and illegal causes : 
And whereas, of late years, — partial, corrupt, and unqualified persons have 
been returned, and served on juries, and particularly divers jurors in trials 
for high treason, which were not freeholders ; and excessive bail hath been 
required of persons committed in criminal cases, to elude the benefit of 
the laws made for the liberty of the subjects ; and excessive fines have 
been imposed ; and illegal and cruel punishments inflicted ; and several 
grants and promises made of fines and forfeitures, before any conviction 
or judgment against the persons upon whom the same were to be levied : 
all which are utterlj^ and directly contrary to the known laws, and statutes, 
and freedom of this realm." ^ 

"Such were the articles of accusation," says Prof. Smyth/' preferred, 
and it will be found justly preferred, against James." 

This Declaration, in addition to the above extract, proceeds to recite the 
fact of the King's abdication, and the measures necessary to place the 
Prince of Orange on the throne, and also, to serve as '* A Declaration of 
Rights," ^ as it was called. William had been frequently subjected to 
discouraging and unexplained delays, and many had urged him to a vigor- 
ous course, and with reference to principle, law or courtes3\ These impa- 
tient advisers were either rebuked, or unheeded. He was induced to take 
no step that indicated either doubt or fear, or to manifest a revolutionary 
spirit — where he believed that a sense of duty recognizing a constitutional 
standard would serve him better. After the reading of the Declaration, 
the Marquis of Halifax, Speaker of the House of Lords, made a solemn 

,1 Pari. Deb., Vol. t, p. 108. 2 Smyth, Modern Hist., p. 352. 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 433 

tender of the Crown to their highnesses, in the name of both houses, the 
representatives of the nation, and William made a brief answer accepting 
it. William and Mary were then proclaimed, and in due time crowned 
" King and Queen of England, France and Ireland, with all the dominions 
and territories thereunto belonging." ^ 

The Revolution of 1688 was defensive, or rather it was almost by gen- 
eral consent.^ A revolution by consent shows a condition of doubt in 
opinion, and confidence in principle. It does not remove the partisan, nor 
obliterate the sources of difference. Party spirit, without principle for its 
basis, is checked bj' its own excesses. It becomes self-disgusted b}' multi- 
plying differences to adjust differences, errors to correct errors, — a process 
that destro3's itself, and has no end but failure. Coercive power had 
exhaiiiSted all its resources. It was made timid, even cowardly by its fuil- 
ui'es. It depended upon artificial management for its continuance, and 
when skill had made its desperate changes with no result but loss and cha- 
grin, there remained no mental power to give vitality to courage. True^ 
courage is an element only of goodness. Chance, with its cold fatality 
withered all hope of good luck, and strategy had lost its cunning. James> 
and his part}' — had lost all control by a rigid adherence to a false theory^ 
and from the mistakes of theor}-, the}' were hurried by the impulses of pas- 
sion from error to error, from crime to crime, from treason to treason, — 
until the mind in its desperation but wanted — 

" another push 
To leap from its hinges." 

Protestantism could find no cause in itself for this terrible accumulation 
of evils, — and charged all to Popery. In view of its opponents Popery 
rejoiced in the comfort of the same assurance.^ The same logic served both, 
and neither could see truth or safety in the other. The line of succession 
was changed, and Papists were made ineligible to the throne of England 
forever. This conclusion was simply wise because it was the will of the 
nation. The nation was more Protestant than Catholic, — and it was enti- 
tled to religious freedom.* The conclusion was not a remedy because 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. v, p. 111. Hist, of Civ.in England, Vol. i, p. 285. 

2 Smyth, Modern Hist., pp. 350, 251, 252. * According to a computation given by 

3 Buckle says, "In spite of the diflfer- Cooke, made in the next reign, the Free- 
ence of their religion, the English clergy holders throughout England were estimated 
had always displayed an affection towards upon an average, as 

James, whose reverence for the priesthood Conformists to non-con- 

they greatly admired; though they were formists, 22 4-5 to 1 

anxious that the warmth of his affection Conformists to papists, 17811-13 to 1 
should be lavished on the Church of Eng- Conformists and non-con- 
land, and not on the Church of Rome." — formists to papists, . 186 2-3 to L 

28 



434 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

James was a Catholic, but because the people were Protestants. Neither 
Catholicism nor Protestantism insures a good government. It may exist 
under either or both. A wise civil polity alone can give religious freedom. 
The choice of William, in principle, made the crown elective.^ In other 
words, when a hereditary Prince violates the constitution of his country, — 
the people are entitled to act in direct view of their own rights and protec- 
tion. This is democracy. It was understood by William. He said 
plainly to the democratic leaders, that " They might have a regent, no 
doubt, if they thought proper, but he would not be that regent ; they might 
wish him, perhaps, to reign in right, and during the lifetime of his wife, 
but he would submit to nothing of the sort ; and he should certainly, in 
either case, return to Holland, and leave them to settle their government 
in any manner they thought best." Such was his only course. To com- 
mence an administration w^ith no certainty of ending it ; to inaugurate a 
policy with no guaranty for its continuance or securitj^— would jeopard 
his character and give him an uncertain record. He was careful not to 
assume power without knowing what was the voice of the people, and the 
deliberate action of Parliament. It was, indeed, an appeal to the people, 
and it established forever the importance of the Commons. But, without 
enlarging on this interesting period, — a few words are due to the reign of 
William and Marj^ 

WILLIAM AND MARY. 

To comprehend the democracy of William, it is onl}^ necessary to study 
the spirit of his reign, to compare his early acts with his last. He had 
man}' difficulties to encounter, and to decide upon a line that should 
divide his friends from his enemies was not the least. That the democrats 



At this time the numbers of the non-con- elected. The right, therefore, of the com- 

formists were probably somewhat increased, munity, in particular cases, to interfere with 

and those of the papists diminished. This the disposal of the executive power, and 

computation, however, included but a even of the crown itself, was exercised and 

small portion of the residents in towns, and it admitted. Thirdly, before the crown was 

was among these that the spirit of dissent conferred, as a preliminary part of the cere- 

chietiy prevailed. — Hist, of Party ^ Vol. i, mony, the opportunity was taken, which 

p. 449. had not been taken at the Restoration, of 

1 The benefits of the revolution are thus making some provision for the future secur- 

Btated by Prof. Smyth : — " First the line of ity of the constitution, and certain rights 

succession was deTparted from, and it was and liberties were claimed, demanded, and 

declared that no Papist should reign; insisted upon, as the undoubted rights and 

Popery was therefore escaped. Secondly, liberties of the people of England. The 

William was made King, though it was his constitution was, therefore, renewed and 

wife, not himself, who was next in succes- confirmed.'' — 3Iod. Hist., p. 350. 
sion, WilUam, therefore, -was considered as 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 435 

would be selected as his advisers, at first, Tvas expected — for he had 
adopted their views and declared their principles. That he was not influ- 
enced by part}^ prejudice may be inferred from the fact that he lost no 
opportunity to conciliate his opponents, and to urge a Bill of Indemnity. 
"With a war upon his hands during most of his reign, and with a trouble- 
some faction threatening the security of the throne — he had but little time 
to study the ordinary wants of his people, or to meet them. He felt that 
if his mission was as important as it was declared to be by the voice of the 
nation — there was no good reason whj^ his friends should not promptl}^ re- 
spond to his wishes, as to revenue. The Democrats were deemed too prudent 
to be just, too mean to be generous. Having risked his life to save the 
nation from misrule, it was unjust that he should be embarrassed for the 
want of means to conclude a patriotic enterprise which had been so cheap- 
ly and successfully commenced. In his moments of disappointment, it 
was not singular that he should make a comparison between the Democrats 
and Tories. The Tories were not slow in making the most of their oppor- 
tunities to deceive the King b}^ promising all the means he asked, — in the 
hope that they would gain his confidence and thus secure to themselves, what 
they valued more than money, political position and influence. He had not 
tested the Tories either as men, or politicians. He had known the party 
as connected with the government, but was probably unable to decide in 
what degree they had shared its responsibilities with the king. If the}^ 
had erred, to what extent had they been misled? "Were the}^ ignorant, or 
had they been deceived? The country was new to him, the people were 
strangers. Public men of all parties were forward to greet the Prince with 
friendly and earnest protestations of favor and cooperation, — and it would 
be diflScult for him to discriminate between these off'ers of service, or to 
show an undue preference. It was obvious what his first choice would 
be, — and no one was disappointed when the Democrats were called as his 
advisers. But, after his administration had been entered upon, and he had 
had opportunities not only to judge of men, but of measures, he was doubt- 
less led by the plausible address of the Tories, and b}^ their cunning bids for 
influence, — to treat their advances at first with courtesy, and afterwards 
with favor. They certainly had seen enough of error to be able to esteem 
truth a privilege. 

Men, as men, approach each other with ordinary motives of socialitj^, and 
they are usuall}^ impressed by circumstances of social position, and per- 
sonal associations. They form acquaintances with more or less prejudice, 
and contract likes or dislikes according to circumstances. This is particu- 
larly true of political partisans. Sometimes a bitter partisan is an agree- 
able companion socially, and if such a companion has power to exert, or 
influence to command, — he is often able to control the man before the poli- 
tician. Confident in his own convictions, William was slow to suspect 



436 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



deceit in others. lie was honest and frank, and he possessed the true 
courage of dut}-. Conclusions were followed by action. A prompt spirit 
welcomes a prompt spirit. A concurring mind gladdens its associate, and 
when persons readily agree on one subject, the}" are in a fair wa}^ to agree 
upon others. Sentiment leads the intellect. This is S3'mpath3\ William 
was disposed to think well of men who professed to think well of him — 
irrespective of part3^ He wanted what the Democrats were slow to grant, 
and when this was seen b}^ the Tories they were quick to offer uncondition- 
al support. This had the effect to give him confidence in the justice of his 
requisitions, and to lead him to congratulate himself in the cheering fact 
that he had friends in supposed opponents. His impatience hastened his 
conclusions, and he trusted the Tories before he developed their capacity 
for treacher3\ He was slow to discover the difference between a dissenting 
friend and a concurring enem3^^ The one had honest motives to convince 
by opposing, the other dishonest motives to deceive by pretending to agree. 
Mere party men study the man — measure his talents, note his peculiarities, 
his weaknesses, — and find out his plans, his wishes, and his wants. Each 
has its nature to be gratified or complimented, and a knowledge of each is 
a power of control. The Tories did not hesitate to bow to William, — but 
their submission to his rule did not preclude their hope even in James.^ If 



1 "VVilHam soon found, says Dalrymple, 
that " his crown was encircled with thorns." 
In promoting his elevation, the Tories 
departed from all their established max- 
ims. They could not resist the current 
upon which they had floated, nor could they 
divest themselves of their natural instincts 
which still made them his political oppo- 
nents. Of the seven prelates who had 
been persecuted by the late king, only one, 
the bishop of Asaph, was willing to take 
the oaths to support the new monarch. 
When Mary sent to ask Bancroft's blessing, 
the ungracious reply of the Archbishop was, 
"that she must ask her father's first, other- 
wise his would not be heard in heaven. "^ 

2 These hopes were not only willingly 
indulged by a few high Tories, but they were 
encouraged by James, even to the last. 
His "concessions," says Macaulay, "were 
meant only to blind the lords and the nation 
to the king's real designs. He had secretly 
determined that, even in this extremity, he 
would yield nothing. On the very day on 
which he issued the proclamation of amnes- 



ty, he fully explained his intentions to Bar- 
illon. ' This negotiation,' said James, ' is a 
mere feint. I must send commissioners to 
my nephew, that I may gain time to ship 
oflf my wife and the Prince of Wales. You 
know the temper of my troops. None but 
the Irish will stand by me ; and the Irish 
are not in sufllcient force to resist the ene- 
my. A Parliament would impose upon me 
conditions which I could not endure. 1 
should be forced to undo all that I have 
done for the Catholics, and to break with 
the King of France. As soon, therefore, 
as the queen and my child are safe, I will 
leave England, and take refuge in Ireland, 
in Scotland, or with your master.'" — See 
Hist: of Ung.y Vol. ii, p. 486, and Dal- 
ryiffiple' s Memoirs. " That a legitimate and 
powerful monarch," says Cooke, " should 
descend from his throne without a blow, 
and fly before the first outcry of popular 
indignation, was an event too sudden to 
appear lasting; and the preparations of 
Louis, and the temporary success which 
attended James in Ireland, rendered res- 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 437 

they could succeed in controlling William they had no desire to help the 
return of James. Their principle of action was management, in other 
words — to procure legitimate ends by illegitimate means. William desired 
to serve his country, but they studied how their country" might be made to 
serve them. He wanted means to do good ; they were ready to supply 
them provided his good might be made to serve their wishes. He attempt- 
ed coalition, but he found that equality in opposing powers gave no product. 
It amounted to inaction, neutrality. His wants led him to be charitable in 
his judgment, — for they promised him what he wanted, — and this was more 
than he could get from Democrats. Thus from time to time, in his admin- 
istration, he allowed himself to be deceived by the Tories, and it was not 
until he had been misled several times by their treachery that he saw that 
they were not to be trusted under any circumstances.^ They were con- 
stantly at work to circumvent his measures, and even to degrade him from 
the throne. His credulity impaired the confidence of his party friends, and 
it was with difficulty that he could persuade them to rescue him from extreme 
perils when tempted to wander from the high standard of democracy. 

William, as a statesman, was in advance of his time, and jet there was 
a limit to his visions of practicability. His knowledge was inadequate to 
his principles. The science of government in its applications was a new 
subject to him. He was not sufficiently informed respecting the history of 
Great Britain to be able to do full justice either to her Colonies or to Ire- 
land. His political friends approached him on these subjects with an 
assumed confidence that secured his assent to measures more in deference 
to their expressed opinions, than as deliberate conclusions of his own judg- 
ment. He approved the continued injustice to Ireland. He was doubtless 
led into this error by the assurances of TjTconnel, the Lord Lieutenant.^ 

When it was proposed to extend the Bill of Rights to the American 
Colonies, he vetoed the measure. A colony was regarded as a state in its 
minority — requiring paternal care, and special supervision. Rights were 
to be conferred, not conveyed ; given, not claimed. " The state papers 
demonstrate," says Chalmers, " that the most renowned jurists of the reign 



toration an event which was contemplated King. Upon his return to England William 
as highly probable by all. The parties were dissolved the Parliament, and made ad- 
agreed in admitting the probability, but vances to the Whigs. Somers received the 
acted very differently under their belief." — overture with suspicion, and asked what 
Chapter xviii, Vol. i, p. 518, of Hist., of security his friends had that he would not 
Party is interesting. return to the same ill advisers. ' Never, 
1 It was not until near the end of Wil- never,' replied the king, with an emphasis 
liam's reign that he became fully convinced which denoted his thorough conviction of 
that the Tories were unreliable. At this his error." — Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 540. 
time, Cooke says, "The Tories were now un- ^ See Dalrymple's Memoirs, Vol. i, pp. 
popular in the nation, and distrusted by the 330, 334. 



438 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

of William had formed no complete conception of the nature of the con- 
nective principle between the parent country and her colonies ; of the 
extent of the ro^-al prerogative as applied to the government of each, while 
the jurisdiction of Parliament was by all admitted to be co-extensive with 
the boundaries of the empire. Contrary to the Declaration of Rights, 
Chief Justice Holt advised his sovereign to assume the government of 
Maryland on a supposed necessit}', without any form of law, with whom, 
however, afterward concurred Sir Edward Northey and Sir Simon Har- 
court. Sir Thomas Trevor doubted how far the Marylanders were entitled 
to the benefit of the Great Charter. The most respectable cabinet which 
William III. ever enjoyed, composed of Lords Somers, Pembroke, Shrews- 
bury, Bridgewater, Romney, Godolphin, and Sir William Trumbull, denied 
to the new English the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, because 
it had never been conferred on the colonists b}' anj^ King of England, 
plainly supposing that the most important of all rights, the best security 
of personal liberty, must result from a grant of the crown to a subject 
beyond the ocean. Mr. Locke, with other philosophers, solemnly advised 
that prince to appoint a captain general over the colonies, with dictatorial 
l^ower to levy and command an army without their own consent, or even 
the approbation of Parliament." That the advice w^as not approved shows 
how great was the wisdom of the prince. 

The policy of William, in Europe, subjected the colonies to cruel wars, 
and loaded them with heavy debts. Colonial neutrality was rejected by 
William, though favored by the French Court, and this was a course suited 
to the ambition of the northern colonies in their conscious strength and 
abilit}' to add to their domains. The spirit of conquest was as natural to 
the colonists, as the love of rule to the fatherland. 

The reign of William was one of expensive extension. Ireland was to 
be subdued and Scotland adjusted. This course of action had been com- 
menced. It was now hardly regarded as one of inquir3\ Poperj^ was 
an ally to the one, and Presbyterianism to the other. The English nation 
began to realize its parts, and to study the means of unity. The sources 
of its strength were opened, and its conventional power assumed in an 
imposing form which commanded respect abroad, and gave confidence at 
home. It was in a condition to begin to understand its own wants, — and 
to see the necessity of being able to defend itself against the ambitious 
schemes of other nations. It was inevitable in such a period of early for- 
mation, that the power of mone}^ should be linked with the power of man. 
The want of character was made good by money, and the want of money 
was made good by character. Government must have money,— and it 
became in some degree a currency for influence, title and position. It was 
bribery, but briber}^ was then a substitute for destruction, the poor privi- 
lege of choosing the lesser evil. If the king submitted to the degrading 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 439 

conditions of bribery, where no higher conditions were available, he cer- 
tainly had the merit of confining corruption within the limits of his own 
kingdom. He improved upon the sad examples of Charles the Second and 
James the Second in not selling the freedom of his government to the King 
of France, ^t was his difficult part to break off the servile connection 
between the two countries, and to battle with the disappointment and cha- 
grin of a monarch whose wounded pride was added to the workings of his 
unholy ambition. 

William had so extended the responsibilities of the nation, — that while 
he increased its dignity and power — he was compelled to accept such 
instrumentalities to advance his cause as society then afibrded. The wants 
of society were above and beyond its character, and what was wanting in 
moral power was made up in material aid. The great debt of England was 
here commenced, and if its history were to be written, — it would be substan- 
tially the history of the nation. A currency of a people affords an instruct- 
ive index to their character and condition during the period of its use. As 
a Democrat, William was responsible for all that was practicable during 
his reign, but not for the character of the age in which he lived. In one 
respect he was superior to the colonists. They passed a penal law against 
witchcraft. He vetoed it. This was a superstition in an outward commu- 
nit}' — beyond the sea. He saw and understood the weakness, and he did 
not hesitate to apply the remed}'. 

The revolution of 1688, was a splendid triumph of Democracy.^ It 



1 " It must be carefully noticed," says rogatives, if I may so speak, of the demo^ 

Prof. Smyth, "that, though the Bill of cratic part of the constitution, which, 

Rights might not propose itself as any alter- though consented to by William, an elected 

ation, it was certainly a complete renova- prince, and perhaps even thought necessary 

tion, of the free constitution of England, to his own justification and security, could 

The abject state to which the laws, the con- only have been extorted by force from any 

stitution, and the people themselves had reigning hereditary monarch, and in point of 

fallen must never be forgotten ; and it then fact, was certainly not procured by the Eng- 

can surely not be denied that this public lish nation, on this occasion, till the regular 

assertion, on a sudden, this establishment possessor of the crown had ceased to wear 

and enactment, of all the great leading it, and till the country had appeared in a 

principles of a free government fairly state of positive and successful resistance 

deserves the appellation which it has always to his authority. It must always be reraem- 

received, of the Revolution of 1688. bered, that, through the whole of these pro- 

" It is very material to observe, that the ceedings, there was an acknowledgment and 

Declaration and enactment were totally on a practical exhibition of the great popular 

the popular side, vf&re declaratory entirely doctrine, that all government, and all the 

and exclusively of the rights and liberties forms and provisions which are necessary 

of the people, in no respect of the preroga- to its administration, must ultimately be 

lives of the crown. The Bill of Rights was, referred to the happiness of the people." — 

in fact, a new Magna Charta,— a new Peti- Modern Hist., Vol. i, p. 352. 
tion of Rijfht, — a new enrolment of the pre- 



440 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

placed the throne of England on the solid foundations of principle. The 
people were recognized as the true source of political power and govern- 
ment. The king was made the servant of the people, and his continued 
right to wear the crown was made to depend upon his faithfulness to the 
constitution. These changes were democratic — and in them the nation 
found a remed}^ for its evils which no time can change, no circumstance can 
alter —except in application. The remedy was Justice and Equal Rights, 
and just to the extent of application to a suffering people — with a wise 
regard to their capacity and condition, the remedy afforded relief. The 
immediate period succeeding a revolution is one of pause, of rest and pre- 
paration. The parts of the government are to be adjusted one to another, 
and all are to be adapted to the wants and condition of the people. The 
people, as subjects, as citizens, as laborers, as rulers, as parties, as sects, 
as societies, as institutions, as governments, as nations — are to be educated 
anew — that the higher duties may be seen and understood. The Church 
and State, politics and religion are to be advanced with an increased sin- 
cerity, a superior wisdom. The nation is to be studied in its new centre, 
and in its new relations — both at home and abroad. It is not a period of 
displa}' — but of self-duty. Such were the duties of William — and the per- 
iod of his reign was too short to enable him to realize the glory of his 
achievements. He saw the tree in its beauty of foliage, in its vigor of 
growth, but not in its bloom and bearing. The natural elements of his 
character were those of a democratic reformer. He was impatient of 
wrong. He was quick to see an evil, he was impatient at stupidit3% He 
was always read}^ to act, he was impatient at delay. He comprehended 
the dignity of principle and the greatness of duty ; he was impatient of cer- 
emony and trifles. He was accused of being insensible to the refinements 
of society. But with him, to be a gentleman was less gratifying than to 
be a patriot. No one would doubt, that to be both would have been still 
better. But men are to be estimated according to what they are, and not 
according to what an author may wish to make them.i 

In giving the results of this democratic revolution, which was accom- 
plished without battle or bloodshed — injustice would be done both to the 
subject and to the reader — if a passage full of truth were to be omitted 



1 Even the Duchess of Marlborough tion, that neither in great tilings nor in 

failed to discover the true character of small had he the manners of a gentleman." 

William. In speaking of him, she says, " I — Conduct, p. 115. Prince George was not 

could fill as many sheets as I have already permitted to appear at court on the royal 

written, with relating the brutalities that birthday — in deep mourning — although it 

were done to the Prince and Princess in was almost immediately after the death of 

this reign. The King was, indeed, so ill- hisbrother, the King of Denmark. A worthy 

natured, and so little polished by educa- mayor of a borough presented to the king 



QUEEN ANNE. 441 

from Macaula}'. The compliment to Democracy of a monarchist is of 
higher authority than from a democrat of a republic. 

He says, — "The Declaration of Right, though it made nothing law which 
had not been law before, contained the germ of the law which gave relig- 
ious freedom to the Dissenter, of the law which secured the independence 
of the judges, of the law which limited the duration of Parliaments, of the 
law which placed the liberty of the press under the protection of juries, 
of the law which prohibited the slave trade, of the law which abolished the 
sacramental test, of the law which relieved the Roman Catholics from civil 
disabilities, of the law which reformed the representative system, of every 
good law which has been passed during a hundred and sixty years, of every 
good law which may hereafter, in the course of ages, be found necessar}^ 
to promote the public weal, and to satisfy the demands of public opinion. \ 

" The highest eulogy which can be pronounced on the revolution of 1688 
is this, that it was our last revolution. Several generations have now passed 
away since any wise and patriotic Englishman has meditated resistance 
to the established government. In all honest and reflecting minds there is 
a conviction, daily strengthened by experience, that the means of effecting 
every improvement which the Constitution requires may be found within the 
Constitution itself." * * * u Yoy the authority of law, for the security 
of property, for the peace of our streets, for the happiness of our homes, 
our gratitude is due, under Him who raises and pulls down nations at His 
pleasure, to the Long Parliament, to the Convention, and to William of 
Orange." ^ 

Much more that is interesting might be added respecting the Prince of 
Orange, but enough has been said to show that though monarch}^ and roy- 
alty in themselves represent nothing more than nominal distinctions in the 
mere forms of government, they acquire legitimate glory whenever they are 
associated with the adoption and practice of democratic principles. 

In historical order, on the death of William, we have a new and 
different subject in the reign and character of his successor to the throne, a 
Tory Queen, the Princess Anne of Denmark, the daughter of James the 
Second. 

QUEEN ANNE. 

On the failure of the issue of her sister Mary, Lady Anne, wife of Prince 



at court an address, "combining the two both into one hand, good Mr. Mayor," was 

dissimilar topics of condolence for the death the king's laconic remark. — Thompson's 

of the queen, and congratulation for the sue- Memoirs of the Duchess of Marlborough^ 

cess of Namur." He introduced himself by Vol. i, p. 260. 

saying that he came with joy in one hand i Hist, of England, Vol. ii, pp. 615, 616, 

and grief in the other. "Pray put them 617. 



442 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

George of Denmark, was declared successor to the crown. This was in 1702. 
It was a great change in almost every particular, and it may not be without 
profit to study its meaning. 

However desirable it ma}^ be to have gifted statesmen to establish a gov- 
ernment on a solid basis, and to administer it with skill and wisdom, and 
in strict conformit}^ to a constitutional standard, still, it cannot be denied 
that an occasional change, from great to moderate ability is attended with 
some advantages which could not be derived from an unbroken continuance 
of undiminished proficiency in statesmanship. Greatness in human capac- 
ity has its limits, its appointed cycles of energy and triumphs, its errors 
and failures, — and great mistakes are not without their teachings. Such 
changes need not, and cannot be devised, as parts of a system, for they 
are inevitable in the nature of things. Their causes inhere in the nature 
of man, in the structure of society, and when the laws of progress are 
studied, a great source of truth is opened to the common mind which 
otherwise would be closed to the world. As man cannot improve the rule 
of Providence, it is wise that he should endeavor to understand its lessons. 
A strong man cannot always lead, for society is not always in a condition 
to follow. If great men were always in the ascendency, most men would 
remain weak for the want of opportunity to increase their strength by 
exercise. The masses are not to be advanced and elevated by the mere 
agency of language, — but by the humble endeavors of the comparatively 
weak who not only represent a class in action, but gradually acquire an 
experience which enables them more fully to understand the science of gov- 
ernment, and the examples of a superior practice. Each and every class 
in societj^ has its representative, and the philosophy of differences is taught 
b}^ the var3'ing examples of practice, and associated with sympathies as 
extensive as the workings of the human mind in its illimitable combina^ 
tions of capacity, sentiment and passion. 

The death of William was a just cause of alarm to the Whigs and Dis- 
senters, for the}^ knew the dangers of Tory rule both to themselves and to 
the nation. The Tories did not openly rejoice in the event of his death, as 
they did in France and Rome, but their manifestations, of gladness were 
clearly to be seen in their congratulations of change.^ The Queen, though 
she "promised sweetly" to all who addressed her with lo3^al affection, 3^et, her 
promises amounted to but little, as they were made with a very imperfect 
knowledge of the means to redeem them. 

At the time of her accession to the throne, Anne was thirty-seven j^ears 
of age. Of a moderate capacity, she was hardly capable of distinguishing 
between opinions and prejudices. " She had been educated," says Cooke, 
" among the high church Tories, and she had imbibed a sincere, almost super- 

1 See Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, pp. 7, 8, 9, 10. 



QUEEN ANNE. 443 

stitious veneration for the church.^ She had been taught that the Whigs 
were republicans and dissenters — enemies to the establishment, and sub- 
verters of the monarchy ; her own experience had confirmed her in this 
belief.^ In her contest with William for an independent revenue, these had 
been her enemies ; the Tories had then proved themselves her friends." ^ 
She had been married to Prince George, of Denmark, who was equal to her 
condition of weakness, if not in title. Together, they had been led b}' design- 
ing Tories to indulge in personal resentments against the late king and his 
administration, rather than by prudent counsels to prepare them for grave 
and public duties. This early teaching was understood by partisans, for 
with her predilections for the church she saw duty only, where they cared 
only for part}^ In her pious mood she called them the "church party," and 
when the Commons spoke of her "unparalleled goodness," in diverting a 
portion of her revenue to the public service, she could not but feel gratified 
by their just and delicate sense of her wants and wishes. If the queen did 
not write her own speeches, it was natural that her ministers should give her 
language suited rather to the delicacy of woman than to the sterner qualities 
of man. For the same reason the addresses of Parliament to the throne would 
be characterized by a spirit of gallantr}' , which, if it did not do justice to the 
queen, would do no injustice to the woman.^ She was made to compliment 
William, and to deplore his death as a calamitj^ to the nation ; and 3'et, 
when she spoke of her " own heart as entirely English," it was certainly an 
ungracious allusion to his foreign origin.^ It was amusing, not to saj^ 
instructive, to read her maternal admonitions to her Parliament, to " avoid 



1 In respect to the Church, the Duchess ^ Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 542. 

of Marlborough says, — " For my own part, ^ Her sense of decorum was so nice, that, 

the word ' church,' had never any charm on her accession to the throne, she caused 

for me in the mouths of those who made the bust of herself on the gold coin to be 

the most noise with it, for I could not per- clothed as it was, according to ancient cus- 

ceive that they gave any other distinguished tom, on the silver. Nothing offended her, 

proof of their regard for the thing than a as queen, so much as a breach of the cus- 

frequent use of the word, like a spell to tomary observances. Lord Bolingbroke 

enchant weak minds, and a persecuting zeal having visited her one day in haste, in a 

against dissenters, and against those real Ramillie tie, she remarked " that she sup-; 

friends of the church who would not admit posed his lordship would soon come to 

that persecution was agreeable to its doc- court in his night-cap." — Thomson's Duch- 

trine ; and as to state affairs, many of these ess of 3Iarlhoro\ Vol, i, p. 57. Granger. 

churchmen appeared to me to have no fixed Her letters to her sister, the Princess of 

principles at all, having endeavored, during Orange, however, respecting the birth of 

the last reign, to undermine that very gov- the infant prince, do not show much innate 

ernment which they had contributed to refinement. — See Dalrymple's Memoirs^ 

establish." — Conduct of the Duchess of Appendix. 

Marlborough, p. 122. 5 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 5. 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1. 



44:4 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

all heats and divisions," and then to listen to the inevitable echoes of hard- 
ened politicians who were infinitely more concerned for their party than 
either for her niajest}^ or the nation. " The queen did not openly interpose 
in the elections," says Burnet, " but her inclinations to the Tories appearing 
plainly, all people took it for granted that she wished they might be the 
majorit}'. This wrought on the inconstanc}^, and servility', that is natural 
to multitudes : and the conceits which had been infused and propagated 
with much industry, that the Whigs had charged the nation with great 
taxes, of which a large share had been devoured b}^ themselves, had so far 
turned the tide, that the Tories in the House of Commons were at least 
double the number of the Whigs. They met full of fur}^ against the 
memor}^ of the late King, and against those who had been emplo^^ed by 
him." 

The moment the Tories gained the ascendencj^, they began to persecute 
the dissenters. The occasional conformity bill was introduced in the Com- 
mons, and after much discussion was passed by a large majority. The ■ 
Tories attempted to give the impression that it was the Queen's bill. She 
was at a loss, probablj^, whether to own it or not, as her husband was an 
occasional conformer.^ " I can't bear sajing," she writes to the Duchess of 
Marlborough, " that I see nothing like persecution in this bill. You may ' 
think it is a notion Lord Nottingham put into my head, but upon m}^ word 
it is m}' own thought." If so, it was certainl}^ a very rebellious thought, 
as she declares in the same letter, that although she " wished it then to pass 
she would have been very glad if it had not been brought into the House 
of Commons." ^ 

During the reign of William the House of Peers was controlled by the 
Whigs. " Although the creations upon the accession of Anne," says Cooke, 
*' had been four to one in favor of the Tories, the Whigs still had a majority 
in the Lords. The occasional conformit}^ bill was, therefore, very differ- 
entl}' received in that house to what it had been in the Commons. The 
Lords supplied those words of form, b}^ the omission of which the Tories 
had attempted to stigmatize the memory of William ; they rejected the 
clause which affected corporate officers, they inserted several provis- 
ions favorable to the dissenters ; and reduced the penalties to a more mod- 
erate scale." ^ 

Lord Bolingbroke pronounced the Schism Bill to be " of the last impor- 



1 By the Test Act 1672, all who held formers. The Queen's husband, Prince 

offices of trust, or were magistrates in cor- George of Denmark, was one. — Hist, of 

porations, were compelled to take the sac- Party, Vol. i, p. 549. 

rament, according to the rite of the Church 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 550. 

of England, before they entered upon their s gee Pari. Deb., Vol. ti, p. (Jo, 
offices ; these were called occasional con- 



I 



QUEEN ANNE. 445 

tance, since it concerned the security of the Church of England, the best 
and firmest support of the monarchy." ^ It was the remark of the Earl of 
Anglesea, — " That the dissenters were equally dangerous both to the 
Church and State.^ It was suggested by the Bishop of London, — " That 
the dissenters had made this bill necessary, by their endeavors to propagate 
their schism, and to draw the children of the churchmen to their schools 
and academies." ^ Lord Halifax urged, " That the very bringing in of this 
bill was injurious to the queen, and he could not believe her majesty would 
ever give her royal assent to such a law after the solemn declaration she 
had made from the throne, that she would inviolably maintain the toleration, 
which the bill visibl}" struck at." '^ The Earl of Wharton was quite dis- 
posed to be facetious on the men of pleasure who gravel}^ announced their 
deep concern that the church was in danger. "It is somewhat strange," 
said he, " they should call schism in England what is the established relig- 
ion in Scotland ; and therefore, if the lords who represented the nobilit}^ of 
that part of Great Britain, were for this bill, he hoped, that, in order to be 
even with us, and consistent with themselves, they would move for the 
bringing in another bill, to prevent the growth of schism in their own 
countr}'." 5 As an amendment was made afterwards to include Ireland, 
another bill might have been made with the same propriety to guard Cathol- 
icism in that countr3\ After some amendments were made abating the 
penalties, the bill was passed in the Lords seventy-seven to sevent^'-two, 
and in the Commons one hundred and sixty-three to ninety-eight. 

In her appointments the Queen favored the Tories,^ though she was influ- 
enced to retain most of the judges and Foreign Ministers. None, how- 
ever, were retained who were not explicitly committed to the war against 
France and Spain.'^ The Tories " so immaculate in opposition," so disin- 
terestedly opposed to place or emolument, now became eager petitioners 
even for the smallest offices. " The Whigs," says Cooke, " did not fail to 
remind these patriotic men of their self-denying resolve, and all were not 
so happy in their cases, or so cute in their casuistry, as Mr. How, who 
could answer to such an unpleasant allusion that ' he had kept his word, he 
had not a place,' — a plea which was, doubtless, literally true, since the 
office of paj-master-general was divided between him and Mr. Fox." ^ 

The extreme measures of the Tory ministry, and of the Tory Commons, 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1351. 8 This Mr. John How was one of the most 

2 Ibid, p. 1352. violent members of his party ; he was 

3 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1354. seated for Gloucestershire, in the next Par- 

4 Ibid, p. 1353. liament, by a most shameless and unconsti- 

5 Ibid, p. 1352. tutional decision of the Tory majority of 

6 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 545. an election committee. — Oldmixon. Hist. 

7 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 15. of Party, Vol. i. p. 547. 



446 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

which was dissolved in 1705, disgusted the nation. Moderate Whigs and 
Tories were found ready to unite in the belief that a strong administration 
could be formed by a coalition of parties. Bolingbroke was then j'oung 
and ambitious. "Panting for political distinction, he saw in this alliance 
the earliest prospect of promotion and he embraced it." ^ The victories of 
the war had made the war popular with the nation, and the Tories had 
made their ascendency still more hateful by their great reluctance to grant 
supplies. The despotic conduct of the Commons, in the case of the Aj-les- 
bury election compelled the Queen to prorogue it. The proclamation which 
followed, only anticipated b}^ a short time, its natural dissolution.^ . 

The elections for the new Parliament were attended with much excite- 
ment. The Tories uttered their usual party cry, — "The Church is in 
danger," and they were met with a confident spirit by their opponents with 
the question, — " Is the Church in danger?" For a wonder the court was 
neutral. In conflict with principle royalt}^ is no element of power. The 
Whigs were victorious, and the Tories were placed in opposition. The 
question, — "Is the Church in danger?" — was earl}' discussed by the new 
Parliament and emphaticall}' decided in the negative.^ 

" The nation," said Lord Somers in this debate, " is now happy under a 
most wise and just administration, the public money is justly applied, the 
public credit in the highest esteem, the armies and fleets are supplied, the 
success of her majesty's arms gives the nation greater honor and reputa- 
tion than has before been known, and we have a fair prospect of bringing 
the war to a happ}^ conclusion. Those men who raise groundless jealousies 
in this position of affairs, can mean no less than to embroil us at home, and 
defeat all our glorious designs abroad." * 

The Tories introduced a bill against religious freedom in Ireland, but it 
was voted down in the Commons by a majority of seventy-six. The Act of 
Union with Scotland was passed, and with but little opposition. This was 
followed by other judicious measures, suited to the wants of that country, 
highly creditable to the administration. In 1705, in a speech from the 
throne on the subject of a more perfect union with Scotland, the Queen 
said, — "I am persuaded that an union between the two kingdoms will not 
only prevent many inconveniencies, which may otherwise happen, but con- 
duce to the peace and happiness of both nations ; and therefore I hope I 
shall have 3'our assistance in bringing this great work to a good conclu- 
sion." The opportunity to speak of the importance of union was too good 



1 Hist, of Party, Yol. i, p. 545. danger with such a "nursing mother" as 

2 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 559. the Queen. The Tories called her "tho 

3 The Duchess of Marlborough thought illustrious ornament of the church." 
that the Church could be in no immediate * parl. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 499. 



QUEEN ANNE. 447 

to be lost, and she added, — " There is another union I think mjself obliged 
to recommend to jon in tlie most earnest and affectionate manner ; I mean 
an union of minds and affections amongst ourselves." In the House of 
Lords, 1713, the Earl of Finlater spoke of the grievances of Scotland, 
and concluded by sajing, " That, since the union between the two nations 
had not those good effects as were expected and hoped from it, when it was 
made, he therefore moved, — " That leave might be given to bring a Bill for 
dissohing the said union, and securing the Protestant succession in the 
house of Hanover, the Queen's prerogative in both kingdoms, and preserv- 
ing an entire unity and good correspondence between the two kingdoms." 
The motion was seconded by the Earl of Marr, and favored b}^ the Duke of 
Argyle, the Earl of Nottingham, and others, and opposed b}' the Earl of 
Peterboro', and by the Lord Treasurer. Some other Scottish Peers urged, 
" That the end of the union was the amity and friendship between the 
two nations, but it was so far from having that effect, that the}' were sure the 
animosities between the two nations, were much greater now than before the 
union. That it might easily be proved by man}' instances, that some per- 
sons agreed better when they were asunder, ttian when together ; and for 
that reason they believed, if the Union were dissolved again, the two nations 
would be like to be better friends." ^ The Court Lords were all against 
dissolving the Union, and said, " that the very moving such a thing was 
dangerous, and might be of ill consequence, and therefore desired that such 
an effectual stop might be put to it, as that none might offer at any such 
thing again." ^ 

The subject of political union was but little understood. It is difficult 
to say what meaning the ministers intended to have the queen convey in 
her language, the " union of minds and affections," — unless it was similar 
to that between husband and wife, where the wife is required to promise 
obedience. And yet, when Parliament gravel}- intimated to the queen, 
after the death of her husband, that she '' would not so far indulge in her 
just grief as to decline the thoughts of a second marriage, that her people 
might have the unspeakable joy of joining in most fervent prayers to 
Almighty God to bless her majesty with issue," ^ she was evidently disposed 
to think that Parliament could not aid her in the formation of such a 
union. " The subject of this address is of such a nature," said she, " that 
I am persuaded you do not expect a particular answer." ^ This was well 
understood by Mary, when she gave the crown to the Prince of Orange. 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1218. 3 Though frequently pregnant, this bless- 

2 The motion of the Earl of Finlater was ing had not been bestowed upon her. 
carried in the negative only by four voices. ^ Parl. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 778. 
—Ibid, p. 1219. 



448 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

At that time marriage was an " union of mind and affections," and with 
but few rights. Marital rights have been increased with civilization. 
Political union without rights is an absurdity. It is no more than a nomi- 
nal promise. This truth has been painfully illustrated in the experience of 
England, Scotland and Ireland. Union, of any kind, strictly implies equal- 
ity of parts. It illustrates harmon3\ The strings of a harp, and the pipes 
of an organ are made separatel}^, and each is made perfect in itself, — 
before all can be united in harmony b}" tuning. The union of the thr^e 
kingdoms of Great Britain is still " much out of tune," to employ a phrase 
familiar to musicians, and the statesmen of that enlightened countr}^ are still 
inquiring with an apparent amazement wh}^ they cannot secure harmony by 
discordant legislation ! So long as they have a discriminating policy to 
trust one kingdom more than another, to honor one kingdom more than 
another, to demand a special loyalty from one, that is not required of all 
alike, they provide for disunion, and it would be a miracle if they did not 
have it. 

The dogmas of theology still divided the political world, and each party 
recognized a standard of principle in religious belief. When all lament 
the excesses of party strife, there is a relief to be found in the great fact 
that Infinite wisdom is virtual!}" acknowledged where ignorance and super- 
stition are permitted to rule and ruin. Conformity was regarded as an 
indispensable element for the good of societ}", and as might was leagued 
with opinion, — government was subjected to all the embarrassments of 
absurdity and change. If the Tories were willing to perpetuate their 
absurdities by prosecuting the Bisliop of Asaph for his manly language and 
patriotic sentiments, it must be confessed that it was a greater error of the 
Whigs to proceed against Dr. Sacheverell ^ who was a bold advocate of fal- 
lacies which had been publicly condemned and by all parties. 

This has been termed the Augustan age of English literature. The 
administration of Harle}' was distinguished for its literary talent. Boling- 
broke, Atterbury, Friend, King, Prior and Swift — were among its support- 
ers. The Whig cause was honored by the names of Addison, Steele, Bur- 
net, Congreve, Howe, and others. " The Examiner," a political daily 
paper, was put forth as the organ of the new government. *' The Whig 
Examiner," commenced by Addison and others, and then " Manwayring's 
Medlc}"," successivel}' became the organs of the opposition. " The excite- 
ment which the contests of these papers occasioned," says Cooke, "drew 
within its vortex those more delicate offspring of the periodical press, 
whose light essays were hitherto confined to the reformation of social man- 



1 The Sermons of Dr. Sacheverell, and interesting account of dehate in Pari. Deb., 
Bishop of Aiaph, of opposite parties, were Vol, vi, B..806, and p. 1152. 
ordered to be burnt, by Parliament. See 



QUEEN ANNE. 449 

ners, and the promotion of refinement and taste. The elegance of thought 
and diction which had been cultivated as an attractive garb to the moral 
lesson, was now rendered subservient to more exciting objects ; it gave 
dignity and polish to the eulogy of a part}-, and added pungency to the 
political satire. " The Tatler " quickly swerved from its appointed course. 
Steele, its editor, who despised the prudence of a placeman, and Addison, 
who had no such tie to restrain him, ventured to match their little painted 
bark against opponents which had been purposel}^ constructed for con- 
flict." ^ The "Tatler" was more especiall}' designed for the ladies. The 
reader will doubtless remember its plaj^ful touches at political parties, in 
one of which, the writer deprecates " the prevalence of party spirit among 
his fair readers, and marking its power by the whimsical instance, that it 
had caused the Whig and Tory ladies to show their hostility, and avow 
their party, by wearing their patches upon different cheeks." ^ 

The alliance of literature with politics served to give dignity and refine- 
ment to political discussion, and this not without advantage to the govern- 
ment. Still, the keen thrusts of the opposition were too much for the 
patience of the administration. What could not be met by successful 
argument, was met b}^ ill-timed resorts to force. " No one," says Cooke, 
" was a more vigilant prosecutor of Whig pamphleteers than St. John, 3'ct 
it is curious to observe Swift, the greatest libeller of his age, complaining 
of his inactivity in that respect." ^ 

The event of Sir Richard Steele's expulsion from the Commons is one of 
the most interesting and instructive in the reign of Queen Anne. He was 
an active democrat, and his great power as a writer distinguished him above 
ordinary partisans. His language was bold, and j^et there was a refine- 
ment about it that belonged only to the utterances of truth, and a force, that 
could come onl^^ from knowledge and a superior judgment. It w^as as 
much as the Tories could endure to have such a writer in the kingdom, to 
say nothing of his presence in the House of Commons. It was, however, 
most likel}^ a subject of congratulation among the Tories that he was elect- 
ed a member, because his influence might be lessened b}^ expulsion. Not 
that he had uttered disloyal language, or had violated au}^ law, — for such 
acts were deemed wrong only when against their part3\ He had spoken 
the truth against the Tory partj^ when in its weakness, and when truth was 
a cruelty. Much important information with respect to the times of that 
period, and party struggles, — may be gathered from his " Apology " 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 583. iner," the " Medley," or the " Tatler," bore 

2 This trivial instance may illustrate the no analogy to that of a modern newspaper, 
strength and universality of party hostility — Ihid, p. 584. 

during the reign of Anne. It must not be 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 585.- 
forgotten that the influence of the *'Exam- 

29 



450 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

addressed to Mr. "Walpole.^ His points are clearly stated, his style is ele- 
gant, and his conclusions are apt and logical. His manner of presenting a 
subject is at once so comprehensive and captivating, that the reader is at a 
loss to decide which is entitled to the greater admiration, the beauty of the 
truths which he utters, or the language which he employs to convey them. 
His views are so logically expressed that the^^ afford a key not only to the 
nature of the political contests of the day, but of those nice and delicate 
shades of opinion which mark the boundaries of differences, as flowers 
mark the landscape. 

Mr. Steele was elected but a few months before the death of the Queen, 
though no man was more opposed by the court and the Tories. He had 
attacked their measures with great boldness and effect, and he was a favor- 
ite with the Whig party. It was early determined by the ministers that 
his expulsion was a party necessity. A petition was filed against his elec- 
tion, but as it was the seventeenth, of more than an hundred of that kind to 
be heard, they adopted a plan to obviate delaj'. It w^as resolved to adopt 
a summary way of reaching him, by attacking his political writings as sedi- 
tious, and dangerous to the nation. Mr. Hungerford, a noted lawj^er, who 
had been expelled the House of Commons for briber}- in the reign of King 
William, — on the 11th of March, moved to take into consideration that 
part of the Queen's speech which related to the suppressing seditious 
libels ; and complained, in particular, of several scandalous papers lately 
^Dublished under the name of Richard Steele, Esq., a member of that house. 
He was seconded by Mr. Auditor Folej-, a near relation to the Lord Treas- 
'urer, who suggested, — " That unless means were found to restrain the licen- 
^^iousness of the press, and to shelter those who had the honor to be in the 
-administration, from malicious and scandalous libels ; the}", who by their 
:abilities are best qualified to serve their Queen and countrj^, would decline 
'publjc office and employments."^ This was supported by Sir William 
^Wj-ndham, who added, — " That some of Mr. Steele's writings contained 
insolent and injurious reflections on the Queen herself, and were dictated 
by a spirit of rebellion." The next day. Auditor Harley(the Lord Treas- 
urer's brother) made a formal complaint to the House against certain para- 
graphs of three printed pamphlets, which had given most offence to the 
court :-^"The Englishman," of Jan. 19th; the "Crisis," and the last 
■"'Englishman," all said to be written by Richard Steele, Esq., which pam- 
phlets! being' brought up to the table, it was ordered, — "That Mr. Steele 
should attend in his place the next morning." 

At the appointed time Mr. Steele was at the House, and several of the 
paragraphs comjilained of, were read, and severely animadverted upon by 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi,:pjl275. 2 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1266. 



QUEEN ANNE. 461 

Mr. Foley, Mr. Harlej' and others. Tliey were denounced as seditious. 
A member attempted to speak in Mr. Steele's behalf, intimating " that 
according to the order of the day, Mr. Steele was to be heard himself 
in his place," but there was so much noise and confusion he could not pro- 
ceed. Upon this, Mr. Steele said, — " That being attacked on several 
heads without any previous notice, he hoped the house would allow him, at 
least, a week's time to prepare for his defence." This was Saturdaj', and 
Auditor Harle}', true to the instincts of his party, objected to so long a 
delay, and moved that they should give him till Monday following. That 
is, one da}-, and that day was Sunda3\ Mr. Steele, not unwilling to ridi- 
cule his two principal prosecutors, Foley and Harlej^, who were known to 
be rigid Presbyterians, though they now sided with the High Church, 
assumed their sanctified countenance, and confessed, " in the weakness and 
contrition of his heart, that he was a very great sinner ; and hoped the 
member who spoke last, and who was so jnstl}^ renowned for his exemplary 
pietj' and devotion, would not be accessory to the number of his transgres- 
sions, by obliging him to break the Sabbath of the Lord, by perusing such 
profane writings, as might serve for his justification." This speech, spoken 
in a canting tone, put most of the members in good humor, and his request 
for time was granted. As several of the Whig members were absent, this 
delay was favorable to their return before the expu-ation of the week. 
That he might be prepared to meet his accusers with respect to his allu- 
sions to Dunkirk, he moved, — "That an Address be presented to the Queen 
to give directions, that the several representatives of her engineers and 
oflScers, who had the care and inspection of the demolition of Dunkirk, and 
all orders and instructions given thereupon be laid before the House." ^ 
This motion was rejected by two hundred and fourteen voices against one 
hundred and nine. Of course, when a party assumes to be the govern- 
ment, truth and information are not wanted, unless to subserve the party 
in power. 

On the 18th day of March, 1714, the da}^ appointed for Steele's trial, it 
was moved by Mr. Auditor Fole}^, that before they proceeded further, Mr. 
Steele should declare whether he acknowledged the writings that bore his 
name. Mr. Steele admitted, that " he wrote and published the said pam- 
phlets, and the several paragraphs there, which had been complained of 
and read to the House, with the same cheerfulness and satisfaction, with 
which he had abjured the Pretender." It was then ordered that he should 
withdraw ; but after some debate, it was decided, without a division, that 
he should remain in order to make his defence.^ He desired that he misrht 



1 See Pari. Deb., Vol. VI, p. 1271. writes :—** Yesterday Mr. Steele's affair 

2 In a letter to Congrcve, March 19, Pope was decided." * * * <« This gentleman 



452 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

be allowed to answer to what might be urged against him, jDaragraph by 
paragraph. He was powerfull}^ supported by Robert Walpole, Gen. Stan- 
hope, Lord Finch, eldest son to the Earl of Nottingham, and the Lord 
Hinchinbrook, son to the Earl of Sandwich, yet it was insisted b}^ his 
accusers, and it was voted — '^ That he should proceed to make his defence, 
generally, upon the charge given against him." Accordingly, in this he 
proceeded, being assisted by Joseph Addison, who sat near him. For 
nearl}' three hours he sjDoke upon the passages which had been made the 
basis of his arraignment, and "with such a temper, modest}^, unconcern, 
eas}^ and manly eloquence, as gave entire satisfaction to all, who were not 
inveterately prepossessed against him." After closing, he was required to 
withdraw. It was generally expected that Auditor Foley would have 
summed up, and answered his defence, paragraph by paragraph, but he simply 
remarked, — " That, without amusing the House with long speeches, it 
was plain that the writings that had been complained of, were seditious 
and scandalous, injurious to her majesty's government, the church, and the 
universities, and moved that the question should be put thereupon." This 
motion, though designed to embarrass the accused, was entirely consistent 
with the intolerant and desperate spirit that led to the prosecution. The 
Tories did not ask for justice. This they feared. The debate was an 
exciting one, and was continued till near midnight. Walpole was the first 
to speak, and he defended Steele with great ability and eloquence. He 
asked, — " Wh}^ the author was answerable in Parliament for the things 
which he wrote in his private capacit}' ? And if he is punishable by law, 
why is he not left to the law ? By this mode of proceeding. Parliament, 
which used to be the scourge only of evil ministers, is made by ministers 
the scourge of the subject." * * * " Shall Parliament assume the 
ungracious part of thus inferring guilt from mere arbitrary construction ? 
If they do, what advantage to government or the communit}^ can be 
expected to result from such a measure ? Are doctrines refuted, and truths 
suppressed, b}" being censured or stigmatized ? " * * * " The libert}' 
of the press is unrestrained ; how then shall a part of the legislature dare to 
punish that as a crime which is not declared to be so by any law, framed by 
the whole ? And why should that House be made the instrument of such a 
detestable purpose? "^ Walpole was followed by his brother Horatio, 
on the same side. Lord Finch was the next to speak, and though able and 



among a thousand others, is a great instance much natural good humour as I think Mr. 

of the fate of all who are carried away by Steele is possessed of." — Farl. Del.., Voi.. 

party spirit of any side. I wish all vio- vi, p. 1319. Steele was earnest hut not 

lence may succeed as ill; but am really violent. 

amazed that so much of that sour and per- i Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1269. 
nicious quality sliould be joined' with so 



QUEEN ANNE. 453 

eloquent, he became embarrassed. His natural modesty, and his deference 
for the assembly before which he had not been accustomed to speak, 
deprived him of his usual self-possession, and he sat down in visible confu- 
sion, saying, loud enough to be over-heard, — " It is strange I can't speak 
for this man, though I could readily fight for him." His words being whis- 
pered from one to another, operated in an instant like electrical fire ; and a 
sudden burst from all parts of the House, of "Hear him ! hear him !" with 
ineffable marks of encouragement, brought Lord Finch again on his legs, 
who with astonishing recollection, and the utmost propriet}', uttered a speech 
on the occasion, in which, " there was not a word which did not tell." " He 
expressed himself," says a writer of the period, " with a magnanimity and 
clearness, proceeding from the integrity of his heart, that made his very 
adversaries receive him as a man they wished their friend." ^ 

Lord Finch justified Mr. Steele in his reflections on the Peace. "We 
may," said he, " call it honorable ; but I am sure it is accounted scandalous 
in Holland, Germany, Portugal, and all over Europe except France and 
Spain. "VYe maj^ call it advantageous, but all the trading part of the nation 
find it to be otherwise : and if it be really advantageous, it must be so to 
the ministers that made it." Sir Wm. Wyndham remarked, — " That the 
ministrj' would not sa}' that the Peace was advantageous to them." To 
which Lord Finch quickly replied, — "Then it was plain it was advanta- 
geous to nobod}' but our late enemies." 

Lord Finch was followed bj' Lord Lumle^', Lord Hinchinbrook, and others 
with much spirit ; but facts were offensive, and arguments were unheeded 
bj' a large majority of the House. Mr. Auditor Folej^, Sir. Wm. Wynd- 
ham, the Attorne}' General, and other party leaders insisted on the ques- 
tion being taken on the resolution to expel Mr. Steele. This was done b}- 
a vote of two hundred and fort3^-five to one hundred and fiftj'-two.^ Short- 
ly after his expulsion, Mr. Steele published a defence of his conduct, 
addressed to Mr. Walpole. It was entitled, " Mr. Steele's Apology for 
Himself and his AYritings, occasioned b}' his Expulsion from the House of 
Commons. Fabula Quanta Fui.'" This masterlj^ effort was a valuable 
contribution to the cause of freedom, and it is entitled to particular 
consideration.^ 

William, it has been trul}' said, was king only to the Whigs. "^ He favored 



1 See Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1273. monarch of the Whigs. It was they alone 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. vi, p. 1274. who placed the crown upon his head, and 

3 It Avill be found in Pari. Deb., Vol. VI, they alone who kept it there. — Hist, of 
p. 1275. Party^ Vol. i, p. 548. It was said, that 

'^ Hardly as he had sometimes treated the the Earl of Nottingham, whose spirit of 

Whigs, the Tories hated the man to whom expediency was only surpassed by the sol- 

they bowed, and William had been only the emnity of Ids manners, — exerted his influ- 



4:54 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

no faction. That is, lie placed the government upon a democratic basis, 
and enabled the people to see and understand the principles of democracy 
in their practical application. The Whigs could justly and reasonably 
exult in the success of their cause. They were at no loss to understand the 
means by which it was secured. Their faith and practice were in harmony, 
and their promises were redeemed. Their fairest hopes were realized. 
The Tories were ready to share the blessings of a democratic policy, though 
the}^ were slow to acknowledge their origin. They could but see the 
merit and great abilit}^ of the late King, but they preferred to associate his 
name with roj'alty and good luck, rather than with democracy and its legit- 
imate benefits. They admitted his rule, because they could not do with- 
out it, but with no purpose to approve his principles, or to endorse his 
party. He was their king only as he was the chosen king of the nation 
where they lived, but not the king of their Y>SiYty.^ Democracy is not parti- 
sanship. It is truth and duty to the people. The administration of "Wil- 
liam gave such a direction to public affairs, that it was impossible suddenl}- 
to turn them into new channels. It was like a train of cars detached from 
the engine, moving from an impetus already given, but not exhausted. To 
a certain extent Anne had no choice but to submit to this legacy of power 
bequeathed by William. She was powerless to resist the revolutionary tide 
that lifted up the people to the dignity of citizenship. She could only 
indulge in her Tory proclivities to seek counsellors who were willing to 
believe one wa^-, and to administer the government another. The revo- 
lution had placed the nation beyond the reach of mere party .^ It was 
moved by the tide of principle, and for a time, ceased to be disturbed hy 
faction. It was a period of rest, in which the constitution was tested and 
established. Theorists were active as partisans, and selfish partisans stud- 



ence to prejudice William against the last." — Correspondence^ Vol. xr, p. 73. 

Whigs, and to some extent he succeeded. See Thomson's Duchess of Marlboro\ 

Nottingham was ambitious to be at the head Vol. i, p. 184; and Vol. ii, p. 245. 

of the church party. His aifected gravity i Coxe says, — "When WilHam entrusted 

and solemn deportment were found to con- the management of affairs to the Tories, he 

stitute his chief merit. He was one of the hoped that the change would give stability 

many-sided partisans — who are always to his government. But the event did not 

ready with great dignity to serve their accord with liis expectations." * * * 

country with disinterested boldness, pro- "The Whigs, though hated in power, 

vided they are not asked to be consistent became the favorites of the nation, when in 

with themselves. He is thus spoken of by disgrace." — Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 71. 

Swift : — " Lord Nottingham, a famous Tory ^ in the disposition of church preferment, 

and speech-maker, is gone over to the the queen consulted her own partialities, 

W^hig side ; they toast him daily, and Lord and these were generally adverse to the 

Wharton says, it is Dismal, (so they call Whigs, the friends of the revolution. — See 

him from his looks) will save England at Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. ii, pp. 90, 91. 



QUEEN ANNE. 



455 



ied tlieir means of vile advantage, but they had no power to annul the 
blessings which had been achieved. 

A feeble woman, for such a period, proved to be a safer ruler than would 
have been an able but ambitious statesman. Knowledge when linked with 
inordinate ambition permits no rest. It is impatient in its doubtful experi- 
ments, and by pushing its measures prevents a health}^ growth. Anne's super- 
stitious reverence for the Church, and unlimited confidence in the Tories, 
rendered her incapable of discriminating differences. At times, she favored 
both parties in turn, but rather by the accidents of influence, than from 
deliberate judgment. Her reign appeared to be one of confusion, because 
there could be no definite policy where mind was not free to control, and 
where party spirit could not openlj^ pursue a course consistent with its own 
designs. Where small minds have the prerogative occasionally to lead, and 
great minds are under the necessity of following, incongruities are inevita- 
ble. With such a general as Marlborough, and such counsellors as Boling- 
broke, Cowper, Godolphin, and Harley,^ plotting with Mrs. Masham,^ and 



1 Harley is often called in the Whig pam- 
phlets and ballads, '■'the trickster." Sun- 
derland inveighed bitterly against the du- 
plicity of Harley. He regarded him as 
"the author of all the tricks played here." — 
Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 35. 

2 Mrs. Abigail Hill was a humble relation 
of the Duchess of Marlborough. By her 
influence she was appointed one of the bed- 
chamber women of the Queen. The aid 
thus extended to the family of Mrs. Hill 
was highly creditable to the Duchess. Of 
humble position and without income, of 
ordinary capacity, except for ungrateful 
cunning, Mrs. Hill soon acquired sufficient 
influence with the Queen to supplant her 
kindred benefactress. It is said that she fav- 
ored the Stuarts against the House of Han- 
over, the Tories against the Whigs, and 
High Church. When she witnessed the 
frequent altercations between the Duchess 
and the Queen, — she did not hesitate to com- 
pete for influence. By adapting herself to 
the Queen's peculiarities, and flattering her 
opinions and weaknesses — she accomplished 
her ends. By the Queen's approbation she 
was married to a Mr. Masham, a relation of 
Harley. This marriage was permitted to 
take place without the knowledge of the 
Duchess, — thus showing conclusively that 



she was regarded by the Queen as a suc- 
cessful rival of the Duchess in the royal 
confidence. Thus installed — she became a 
power at court. She became a party tool 
of the Queen, the Tories, and the clmrch, 
and an active agent against the Duke and 
Duchess of Marlborough, and the Whigs. 
She even had the influence to secure mili- 
tary appointments of her own family, against 
precedent, and against the earnest protests 
of the Duke of Marlborough. She and 
Harley became the chief managers in the 
disposition of political favors. Lady Sun- 
derland, (daughter of Lord Marlborough) 
thus alludes to her : — "I dare say nothing 
will ever be right, but the removing her ; 
and if that can't be, I hope she will join th© 
Tories, and not with the Whigs^ and then it 
won't be in their power to ruin all the world 
when there is a peace." — Coxe's MertioirSy 
Vol. Ill, p. 76. 

In a letter to the Duchess of Marlborough, 
Nov. 1, 1709, the Duke says, — "I am of 
opinion that my letter will make no altera- 
tion in the Queen. However, I assure you 
that I am very well pleased that I have 
acquainted her with my mind. I believe 
her easiness to Lord Sunderland proceeds 
from her being told that she can't do other 
than go on with the Whigs ; but he assured 



456 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

all subject to the modifications of the Duchess of Marlborough, it would 

indeed, be marvellous if the government were administered with consist- 
ency, or with mucli reference to principle. 

The unanimity of the Whigs and Tories in prosecuting the war ao-ainst 
France, was secured by a common sentiment of hostility to that countr}^, 
and b}^ the necessity of a Protestant succession. The return of the exiled 
family was the great question of the revolution to be reconsidered and 
decided, not by treaty, nor by legislation, but by the uncertain events of 
war, and with a Catholic country. War, to be successful, must command 
the undivided energies of a nation. To have a people united in its vigor- 
ous prosecution, and divided in their domestic policy, is a most unfortunate 
condition of things. The government suffers because its means are impaired 
by party necessities, and parties become desperate because of their inabil- 
ity to contribute to the absolute needs of government. What should be 
guided and determined b}' the axioms of war, are often left to be directed 
hy a reckless ambition, or to the incidents of incapacity. An incompetent 
general is promoted because he is willing to conform to the programme of 
party, and the skilful commander disgraced because he is too honest to 
connect politics with legitimate warfare. Marlborough was too much of a 
hero to neglect the conditions of victor}^, and too much of a patriot to evade 
responsibility where its assumption became necessary to the public safety. 
He was too much of a warrior to know when to make peace, and too little 
of a statesman to know how to make peace. It was Bolingbroke's part to 
satisf}^ the Queen that she had no abler adviser, and to watch the doings 
of Marlborough, that he might appropriate his successes for the benefit of 
the part}^ he was ambitious to revive and strengthen.^ The allies increased 



that Mrs. IMasham and Mr. Harley will, with so much zeal as even to excite the dis- 

under-liand, do everything that can make approbation of his most intimate friends." 

the business uneasy, and particularly to * * * " In his interview with Mr. Sec- 

you, the Lord Treasurer, and me ; for they retary St. John, the general was treated 

know very well that if Ave were removed, with much petulance and reproof, under the 

everything would be in their power." — aifectation of candor and frankness. He 

Coze's 3femoirs, Vol. ii, p. 484. For was compelled to listen to a political lec- 

interesting accounts of Mrs. Masham, see ture on the difference between the Whigs 

Coxe's Memoirs, Volumes ii and iii, and and Tories, and to hear the most unquaii- 

Mrs. Thomson's Duchess of Marlborough. fied remonstrances on the impolicy of 

1 Coxe says, — "We find Secretary St. abandoning his former friends for his 

John adopting towards him (Marlborough) recent connections." — Memoirs^ Vol. hi, 

a dictatorial language, and imperious tone, pp. 150, 164, 174. He was rebuked for 

to which he had been hitherto unaccus- leaving the Tories, and sympathizing with 

tomed, and which was the more mortifying the Whigs. He was even told "that his 

because it proceeded from one whom he had true interest consisted in getting rid of his 

fostered as a son, and had introduced into wife, who was grown to be irreconcilable 

office, and whose interest he had promoted with the queen, as soon as he could, and. 



QUEEN ANNE. iSY 

their demands as they became victorious, and the war changed from the 
defensive to the aggressive. This is a common error when the militar3' 
spirit predominates, and it becomes the gravest question for the consider- 
ation of statesmen, how far war is to be carried before peace is to be 
regarded a sacred dut3\ War is a condition of injustice, whether the 
belligerents see it or not, and peace is inevitable when justice prevails. 
Peace is the cause of the world, in its highest moral condition ; and war, 
under all circumstances, is an evil that should be removed at the earliest 
practicable moment. Not at the expense of great public interests which 
require a permanent basis to insure a reasonable prosperity, nor at the 
sacrifice of honor which would open the door to further insults incompati- 
ble with a self-protecting dignity. A nation cannot long exist if it be 
reckless of character, — for without principle and a commendable pride, it 
would have no just motive to protect itself by extreme measures. A sen- 
sitive national honor, a vigilant jealousy, are healthful conditions indispen- 
sable to sovereignty and to the exercise of true patriotism in the 
administration of government. But these conditions are not incompatible 
with compromise and concession. Magnanimity is the virtue of power, 
and the greater the power that nobly concedes forfeited rights, or forgives 
surrendered weakness, — the greater is the glory of victor3\ When Louis 
proposed peace, it was an acknowledgment of error before the world. It 
was either a confession of weakness, or a radical change of purpose. 
Either was entitled to grave consideration, but the allies manifested a 
culpable indifference as to terms. Success had rendered them impractica- 
ble. It is true, the war involved mixed issues, and the parties to it were 
influenced by varying interests, and diflTerent motives. The peace of Eu- 
rope, was the chief object of the '^ Grand Alliance," and j^et when liberal 
terras were offered by Louis, each party urged a special claim, and all were 
so earnest to use their power because they had it, to command advantages 
not before contemplated, that a settlement became impossible. 

Power uninfluenced hj moral principle in correspondence with its own 
magnitude, is naturally oppressive. It seizes and holds what it has the 
power to hold. If exerted by an individual in the limited relations of 
society, — he makes for himself a hateful character. If exerted by a nation, 
it is a policy of to-day, but fatal for to-morrow. The grasping disposition 
of unregulated power, overacts to its own loss. By attempting too much, 
it is made to yield that which it has. It creates a sympathy for the unjust 
party, if that party is oppressed in its feebleness, or is denied a reasonable 



with the best grace he could." — Coxe*s bring great things in principle down to their 
Memoirs, Vol. hi, p. 173. It was the level. 
struggle of small things in authority to 



458 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

settlement. A mean, or narrow policy is expensive to a nation, because it 
lessens its power. The generous treatment of an enemy makes him j^our 
friend, and this principle in the exercise of power is the element of success 
and strength in a nation. The greater the power the greater the beneficent 
results. 

Louis saw that peace was a necessity, and that his resources were 
becoming exhausted,^ that his subjects were despondent, and that his onl}^ 
chance for self-justification was to offer honorable terms, such as he had 
been unwilling to give before, but such as the Allies would have taken. 
Their rejection placed him in the right who had been wrong before, and the 
Allies, who had been right, were now in the wrong. Louis gained strength 
at home and abroad. Not by stating what he had done, or tried to do, in 
the past, but by making known what he was willing to do to-da3\ It was 
no answer that his assurances of sincerity were to be questioned, for na- 
tional honor cannot be properly linked with suspected duplicity. Suspicion 
in diplomacy is beneath the dignity of a great nation. National greatness 
implies the ability not onl}' to defend its own honor, but to chastise the 
want of it in others. Louis was ambitious and unscrupulous in the em- 
ployment of means to accomplish his ends, but he was not ignorant of 
human nature, nor was he indifferent to those high qualities of mind which 
constitute the amenities of life. If he indulged in dreams of extravagant 
extensions of power, and saw no disgrace in the dissipations of the court, it 
could not be said that he was either stupid in the choice of his means to 
accomplish his ends, or foolish in the application of them. When he saw 
that the allies had become unprincipled enemies, instead of remaining 
independent powers seeking to establish the peace of Europe on just foun- 
dations, and as such, were receding from their original demands as to 
questionable rights, and were disposed to make new claims as the}^ 
increased in power, he did not hesitate to place himself before his people, 
and the world, in a new attitude, that of honorable self-defence. "If it 
depended on me," he said in a public address to his subjects, "you should 
have enjoyed this blessing which you so earnestl}^ desire, the blessing of 
peace ; but it must be procured by new efforts ; the immense sacrifices I 
have offered are of no avail. I can perfectly sympathize with all that 
my faithful subjects must endure, but I am persuaded they would them- 
selves recoil from conditions of peace as repugnant to justice as to the 
honor of the French name." Whatever may be said of the exaggeration 



1 At the close of the campaign of 1708 wastefully as her blood ; the plough had 

France lay feeble and prostrate, like the been abandoned for the sword, and famine 

bloodless corpse of a mighty giant; her youth followed to complete the measure of her 

and manhood had been destroyed in the misery. — Hist, of Party, Vol. i, p. 573. 
war, and her treasure had been lavished as 



DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 459 

not to say the misrepresentation of facts of Louis, respecting the objects of 
his great sacrifices, there was enough of truth in his language to excite the 
S3'mpath3', and to arouse the sensitive pride of the nation. The historj* of 
this war is but another illustration of the truth, which is not as yet sufFi- 
cientl}^ understood, — that those who make war are incapable of making 
peace. 

By rejecting peace, the Whigs became anti-democratic in their polic}', 
The}^ gradually and justly lost their power. "What they lost was gained by 
the Tories. A Tory ministry was gladl}^ formed b}^ the Queen, and a peace 
was soon concluded, much to the satisfaction of Louis if not to the allies. 
If the Whigs were culpable in not accepting the terms of Louis, which 
were liberal and honorable, the Tories were still more censurable for con- 
senting to conditions which were disgraceful.^ To consent to such a peace 
was equivalent to condemning the war, as the results secured were in utter 
disproportion to the expenditures of blood, treasure and domestic comfort. 
But, while this period was marked b}' some of tlie smallest minds, it was 
also distinguished b}" some of the greatest. When extremes meet in char- 
acter, it becomes a profitable lesson to study the laws of moral and politi- 
cal equilibrium. 

THE DUKE OE MARLBOROUGH. 

The Great Duke of Marlborough, as he has been recorded in history, was 
the military power of the nation during the reign of Anne. Without him, 
the results of the war would have been doubtful. It is not wise to specu- 
late upon the contingencies of the past, when all know that the past is 
unalterable. Though man is but a feeble instrument in the events of 



i"The whole transaction," says Coxe, on the head of the same Prince, from a per- 
*' was clandestinely managed between suasion that this excess of power would be 
Torcey and the British ministers, through contrary to the good and quiet of Europe, 
the agency of Mesnager, who accompanied Thus Avith a single stroke of the pen, was 
Prior on his return to England. On the overturned the leading principle of the 
27th of September (1711) the preliminaries, grand alliance, that no Bourbon Prince 
founded on the basis of the seven articles, should ever fill the throne of Spain.'* 
were signed by Mesnager, on the part of Although the queen had promised, "that 
France, and by the two Secretaries of she would carry on the negotiation in con- 
State, in virtue of a warrant from the currence with the States, no official com- 
queen. In this dishonorable instrument munications were made to the republic for 
the only specific propositions were the ac- several months after tlie delivery of the 
knowledgment of the queen's title and the preliminary articles proposed by the French 
Protestant succession by the King of France, court."* * * " These preliminaries were 
and his engagement to take all just and received in Holland with universal indigo 
reasonable measures that the crowns of ixaXion.'"— Memoirs, Vol. iu, p. 252. 
France and Spain should never be united 



460 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

progress, yet, it is difTicult to see how the independence of England could 
have been saved, or the peace of P^urope secured, without the agenc}- of 
such a man as Marlborough. It is not left to man to decide what mio-ht 
have been had Marlborough never been born ; but to look upon the events 
of that period as the}' actuall}^ transpired, including him as a part, as a 
power, in the age which he helped to characterize. No man is a power bj' 
himself. He is either aided b}- others, in harmonj-, or opposed b}- others, 
in opinion or policy. He is not permitted to control his nativity, to elect 
his compatriots, nor to compose the elements which constitute the times in 
which he lives. He finds himself a part of society which is subjected to 
conditions independent of individual motives or action. In these, he finds 
himself not only linked with others, who each has a distinct and responsi- 
ble part to perform, but with duties which, though not self-sought, are 
regarded as peculiarly his own. 

There could be but little profit in studying the character of Marlborough 
in scenes of supposed differences. To ask what he would have been with- 
out the favor of the Duchess of Cleveland, without the love of Sarah 
Jennings, without the cunning and duplicity of a Bolingbroke, or a Harley, 
or a Mrs. Masham? With a sovereign of larger capacity than that of 
Queen Anne, or with a minister weaker than Godolphin? It is not profit- 
able to individualize men, except so far as a particular knowledge is indis- 
pensable to an accurate knowledge of the societ}^, or the times, of which 
the}' constitute a part. Like all other men, Marlborough was onl}- one of 
many, and made what he really was not only by his own peculiar powers, 
but by what the many really were who lived in his time. 

The greatness of man is not seen without man's weakness. It is either 
limited by special incapacity, or by the want of special knowledge.^ Society 
is made up of great and little men together, — and it is the business of 
history to estimate their separate, as well as their aggregated forces. 
Strong men have their weaknesses, and weak men their redeeming quali- 
ties, — and all have their respective parts to perform, however great, or 
however humble. It has been said that " The defects of great men are the 
consolation of dunces,"^ and it is a saying of the Talmud, "That when 
men put a monkey into power they must bow to him." Bodin asserted in 
the 16th century that " much knowledge is generally mischievous in a king. - 



^ Montaigne says, — "Homer was com- angry, to fear, to run away, to be jealous, 
pelled to consent tliat Venus, so sweet and to grieve, and to be transported with pas- 
delicate as slie was, should be wounded at sion, to honor them with the virtues that 
the battle of Troy, thereby to ascribe cour- amongst us are built upon these imperfec- 
age and boldness to lier; qualities that can- tions. — Essays, p. 451. 
not possibly be in those who are exempt 2 D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, 
from danger. The gods are made to be 



DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 4:61 

It is rarely united with a good disposition, and with a moral discipline of 
mind : None of the Emperors were so illiterate as Trajan, none more 
learned than Nero." ^ Such sayings only show what has been in the past, 
and clearly indicate what is deemed possible in the future, but it does not 
follow, that what consoles a dunce can really lessen the dignity of character, 
or that the people of any nation can long deceive themselves in mistaking 
a monkej' for a man, or in prefen-ing ignorance to knowledge. Lord 
Bacon could clearly comprehend the profoundest truth, but he could 
not alwaj'S master the meanest motive. Sir Isaac Newton could con- 
template with mathematical accuracy the phenomena of the phj'sical 
universe, but he was sometimes blind to the commonest error. Lord 
Chatham saw with wonderful power the justice of the colonial cause 
of America, and while he could picture, with unsurpassed eloquence the 
sources of strength and glory of the British Empire, he failed to see the 
republican means of greatness in the wilderness be3^ond the sea. Lord 
B}Ton could mark and interpret the beauties of mind in its flights and 
perfections, but he was without the humble power of self-denial to save 
himself from misery. Cicero, in his greatness, did not disguise his love of 
glor}", and the younger Plin}^ modestl}^ confesses the love of fame to be a 
commendable passion, "in one who being conscious of no guile, is not 
afraid to be remembered by posterity'." ^ Franklin did not deem it beneath 
his dignity to justif}^ " self-praise," and he counted vanity a common friend.^ 
So that weakness is not without a place in Providence, nor the want of 
wisdom without its use. 

Whatever may be the achievements of the intellect, the heart is not 
without its influence to increase, to lessen, or to modify them. The great- 
ness of Marlborough appeared to be exempted from the sway of the passions 
which ordinarity characterize an ambitious man. His amiableness of temper 
admirably fitted him for all the graces of charity, and gave him that enduring 
patience so necessary to a 103'al heart that recognizes a sovereign, however 
weak or stupid. His reverence for royalty neutralized his disgust for the 
petty shifts and expedients of weakness. His deep and undeviating 
affection for his wife became an anchor to his character, and saved him from 
the polluting atmosphere of a dissolute age. His love for her seemed to 
embrace all the promises of his highest ambition. His public achievements 
were constantly centred in the one hope that his means of independence, 
and the privilege of retirement from official duty, would be shared with his 
" dear wife, his soul of soul." 

In discussing the character, positions and influence of great men, if we 



1 Hallam*8 Lit. of Europe, Vol. n, p. 2 Spectator, No. 554. 
132. 3 Sparks^ Frankfin, Vol. yii. p. 62. 



462 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

would do full justice to their motives and avoid excesses of praise, it is 
necessarj^ to have exact views of their compatriots. Men often acquire 
distinction b}' what is done by others. AYithout a special knowledge of the 
■weakness that indulges in env}- or jealous}', or the essential aids derived 
from a subordinated superiority, we fail to discover the true sources of 
greatness, seen in grand results, and are liable to disparage merit, and to 
over-estimate character. 

"When things follow^ their natural laws," saj^s Guizot, "when external 
force does not mix itself up with them, power always flies to the most 
capable, to the best, to those who will lead society towards its aim." 
Nothing can be more certain, and j^et when the obstructions to the natural 
laws are estimated, and the elements of external force are excluded from 
the proposition, nothing can be more uncertain. When " omnipotence and 
imbecility are joined," to quote the extravagant language of Lord Chatham, 
all the circumstances of society-, the principal features of the age — become 
elements which enter into all estimates of public character. The successful 
administration of government, whether in peace, or war, depends much 
upon a judicious distribution of power among individuals. When strong 
men are joined with weak, or when weak officials constitute the government, 
and the strong are only advisers, whose counsels ma}' be received or 
rejected, it is difficult to adapt means to ends, or to foresee and provide for 
disturbing causes which are likely to arise from such unnatural combina- 
tions. This inequality of human agency is inevitable in the nature of 
things, and it is the part of wisdom prudently to provide for it. The ancients 
saw no remedy but in ostracism.^ But this remedy was abolished when 
applied to disreputable persons. "The ostracism," says Plutarch, "was 
not a punishment for crimes and misdemeanors, but was very decently 
called an humbling and lessening of some excessive influence and power. 
In reality, it was a mild gratification of envy ; for by this means, whoever 
was offended at the growing greatness of another, discharged his spleen, 
not in anything cruel or inhuman, but only in voting a ten years' banish- 
ment. But when it once began to fall upon mean and j)rofligate persons, 



'^Ostracism is from the Greek word was enclosed -vrith wooden rails. The mag- 

osiracon, an oyster ; a mode of proscription istrates then counted the number of shells ; 

at Athens. This custom is said to have and if it amounted not to six thousand, tho 

been first introduced by the tyrant Hippias ; ostracism stood for nothing ; if it did, they 

by others it is ascribed to Clysthenes, about sorted the shells, and the person whose 

510 B. C. It is thus explained by Plutarch : name was found on the greatest number 

*' Every citizen took a piece of broken pot, was declared an exile for ten years, but 

or shell, on which he wrote the name of the with permission to enjoy his estate." — Lives, 

person he wanted to have banished, and Vol. ii, p. 109. 
carried it to a part of the market-place that 



DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 463 

it was ever after entirely laid aside, Hyperbulus (a miserable wretcli) being 
the last that was exiled by it."^ 

The m^'thological character of Hercules is invested with all those 
elements of power which are naturally associated with the excesses of 
interest, or passion, and checks and balances are provided necessar}' to 
harmony and protection. The myth of Hercules was obviously designed 
as a creation of power to illustrate irresistible physical strength, and 3'et 
not without particular reference to the demands of human nature, to science 
and the arts, and to the normal conditions of society. His person was 
represented as naked, of fine proportions, and undisguised by art. He was 
earl}^ instructed in the liberal arts, and taught with extraordinary care all 
the accomplishments calculated to refine the mind, or to strengthen the 
bod}'. When but an infant, his hands were superior to the muscular power 
of the monstrous serpents sent to destroy' him, and his maturer strength 
mastered the lion without the aid of arms. He was permitted to enjo}' the 
highest privileges of societ}', and jxt was subjected to the ordinary trials of 
life. It was seen that such a creation of individual power would be fatal 
to the peace of society, and he was subjected to restraints altogether 
incompatible with the exercise of super-human capacities. He was led to 
rebel against his own destin}', to indulge in unholy passions, and was made 
to sufi'er the extreme penalties due to crime, and to be sold as a slave. 
His wickedness was made to give him new positions of power, and his slavery 
was ended by the hand of his admiring mistress in the bonds of matrimony. 
The jealous}' of Juno was combined with the will of Jupiter to subject Hercu- 
les to the power of Emystheus even before his birth.^ All the gods united to 
arm Hercules, to constitute him a champion without an equal, and 3'et when he 
was ordered to capture, unhurt, the stag so famous for its swiftness, — Diana 
was clothed with the power to seize the animal in defence of her prerogative, 
and to stipulate terms of compromise. With all his physical strength he 
was not permitted to succeed without strategy, and the aid of science. To 
utterly destroy the Lernsean hydra he had to employ- his friend lolas to 
burn, with a hot iron, the root of the head which he had crushed to pieces, 
and he was unable to capture the stag without the ambushed trap. The 
eleventh labor imposed upon Hercules by Eurystheus, to obtain apples from 



1 Plutarch's Lives, Vol. n, p. 109. servient to the will of the other. This 

2 Eurystheus, a king of Argos and natural right was cruelly exercised by 
Mycenae, son of Sthenelus and Nicippe, Eurystheus, who was jealous of the fame 
the daughter of Pelops. Juno hastened of Hercules; and who, to destroy so power- 
his birth by two months, that he might come ful a relation, imposed upon him the most 
into the world before Hercules the son of dangerous and uncommon enterprises, well 
Alcemena, as the younger of the two was known by the name of the twelve labors of 
doomed by the order of Jupiter, to be sub- Hercules. — Lempriere. 



464 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the garden of the Hesperides, was nothing less than rebellion against the 
source of his own power, — but all this was made consistent b}^ Minerva, 
who carried the apples back because the}' could be preserved in no other 
place. So of the dog Cerberus, after surprising him and dragging him to 
the earth, and comphing with the terms of the order, he returned him to 
his post, as diplomatists would say, — in statu quo ante helium. With all his 
power to overcome others, however strong, he was finally made a victim by 
Dejanira, a jealous wife, and by the revenge of Nessus. Thus, the greatest 
embodiment of mental and physical power, as understood by the ancients, 
was subjected to the extremest tests, and ended with frightful successes, and 
humiliating failures. He was introduced into the world, a hero above men 
and monsters, — and yet the arrow prepared b}^ himself for his enemies, that 
poisoned the blood of Nessus, was made to poison his own. In vain he 
attempted to save himself, "and in the midst of his pains and tortures he 
inveighed in the most bitter imprecations against the credulous Dejanira, 
the cruelty of Eurystheus, and the jealousy and hatred of Juno." Jupiter, 
inspired, one would suppose by wisdom not unlike that of modern times, saw 
no way to end such a character, but to make him a mart^T, and placed him 
among the gods. 

Such a hero is out of place in the world, where no equals are prepared to 
balance his power, or to compete with his skill. His capacity for good was 
almost entirel}' devoted to the reduction of evils removable onty hj ph3'sical 
strength, and his capacity for evil was limited by the obvious necessities of 
society. The philosophy of the m3'th, is similar to that of Providence as 
given by modern writers. A power too great for the general good of 
societ}' is left to be corrected by its own inherent weakness. An element 
of failure is provided to check the excesses of success. 

This subject of inequalit}', whether in distinct and separate departments 
of government, as defined by a constitution, or in the individuals who com- 
pose the aggregate of oflEicial authority ; or, in the majorities and minorities 
of the people marked by their votes on public questions, — is one of great 
magnitude, and cannot be over-estimated. The wisdom, or the weakness, 
the knowledge, or the ignorance, the integrit}', or the dishonest}' of public 
men, is a constant theme of remark throughout the world, and it is often 
difficult to determine whether men are more influenced by truth and intelli- 
gence, than duped by cunning, or led by interest. Men, too unfavorably 
known to be trusted, sometimes succeed in their perfidious plans, — by 
making tools of others. But this subject will be more particularly discussed 
in another place. 

The Duke of Marlborough was the most prominent character of his age. 
As a warrior he had no equal, and more than an}- other man, he was the 
leading statesman of the Grand Alliance, and the Prime Minister of 
England, during the reign of Anne. Such a character becomes, as it were, 



DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 465 

a central power in the world, and is practically linked with the principal 
events of its period. It is connected not only with events, to which it gives 
birth or controls, but with individuals who have strength to aid, or weak- 
ness to embarrass. He was the Hercules of his time, but he had his 
Eurystheus in the Tory party, in the Church, and in the sovereignty of the 
Crown. These were combined as one power. Earl}' taught and guided by 
a clergyman distinguished for his learning and pietj-, he doubtless " imbibed 
that deep sense of religion, and zealous attachment to the Church of Eng- 
land, which were never obliterated amidst the dissipation of a Court, the 
cares of political business, or the din of arms."^ His ardent attachment 
to the Church prepared him for the conflict with Poperj-. He did not 
oppose Popery, by denying freedom ©f opinion to Papists, but he justly 
claimed the same protection for a Protestant that h« was willing to grant 
to a Catholic. He was no friend to persecution. He indulged in no doubts 
as to religious duty or loyalty.'* He served his God and his countr}- with a 
singleness of purpose that precluded all encroachments upon his time that 
was dedicated to dut}'. With a single e3'e to public affairs he was able to 
comprehend the wants of nations, and to mark out a polic}' in outline with 
precision and accurac}'. He could foresee general results, although not 
always able to explain them. As a statesman, he studied nations rather in 
their aggregated relations^ than in their political details of men and meas- 
lu'es. His amiable credulity, his deep sense of religious obligations, his 
passionate loyalt}', — all enabled him to concentrate his undivided energies 
upon great subjects and general issues, — but he was not prepared to 
scrutinize either the motives of men, or to detect their cunning means of 
management. In military affairs, his conceptions of successful action were 
wonderful. To him armies were seen as simple powers, combined with 
astonishing rapidit}^ and precision in successful attack, and mastered with 
unparalleled skill in defence. His battles were characterized occasionall}' 
with an apparent indifference to life, and had he not succeeded in his 
impetuous movements, he would have been justly denounced heartless as a 
man, and reckless as a general.^ His early exploits attracted the attention 
of distinguished generals, and he was not without honor from ro3'alty. 
Turenne called him his "handsome Englishman."^ lie possessed the 



1 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 1. have but to command me ; I shall pay 

2 In a letter to the Prince of Orange, entire obedience to it, being resolved to die 
Aug. 4, 1688, Marlborough says, — "Mr. in that religion that it has pleased God to 
Sidney will let you know how I intend to give you both the will and the power to 
behave myself. I think it is what I owe to protect." — Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 21. 
my God and my country. My honor I take 3 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 504.. 
leave to put into your highness's hands, in ^ Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, pp. 4,. 29^; 
which I think it safe. If you think there 5 A lieutenant-colonel having scandalous- 
is anything else that I ought to do, you ly abandoned, without resistaace, a statioa, 

30 



466 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

happ3' facult}' of adapting himself to the varying elements of character 
always to be found in the proud and sensitive nature of militar}^ men. 
Having to do with every variety of nationality, it was important that he 
should clearly understand their peculiar claims to notice, or promotion, 
their prejudices and interests, their habits and principles.' Although enjoy- 
ing a position almost above the spirit of competition, yet he was not entirel}' 
exempted from the malice of envy, nor from the cabalistic schemes of 
ambitious men. But few men in history, have occupied high positions of 
unquestioned influence with less selfishness, or with more efficiency. If he 
indulged in an inordinate passion for wealth as some assert, he certainly 
had the high merit of not disregarding legitimate precedents, and he was 
not guilty of that much greater sin of ambition, of attempting to consoli- 
date powers of state at the expense of personal freedom, and of the general 
welfare. It was with evident pain that he felt constrained to detach him- 
self from James II., and to favor the cause of revolution. Both his motives 
and his honor have been questioned, in this connection, when, perhaps, a 
little further inquir}^ might discover a measure of merit rather than of 
censure. True loyalty is not adherence to the personage of the king, nor 
to his name, but to the constitution which invests the ro3'al personage with 
legitimate sovereignty. While he saw danger in James, and safety in the 
Prince of Orange, — he was not above a compassionate friendship for the 
one, nor below the demands of patriotism to support the other. Had 
Marlborough been influenced to acquire political power regardless of loyaltj' 
and patriotic dut}-, and with chief reference to ultimate political ascend- 
ency ; with his genius and skill, with his prestige and information, — he 
could have easily accomplished for himself a rule as enduring as that of 
Cromwell, and a swa}^ as wide as that of Napoleon. 

But, it seemed to be the highest ambition of Marlborough, to serve his 
country as he found it, as he had been taught to know it, to hold sacred its 
constitution, to obey its laws, and to honor its institutions. In his opinions, 
habits and tastes he was conservative. He saw no safety but in a consti- 
tutional government, — where he could look for a supreme authority to 
protect the rights of the British subject everywhere, and to assert and 
defend the dignity of the nation in its proud sovereignty. He was no 
fanatic, no revolutionist. He lived in revolutionary times, but it was not 
his mission to add to their troubles. He looked upon the soldier only as a 
servant to the €rown, and exerted his skill as a diplomatist only for the 



"vrhich he rwas enjoined to defend to the last ofRcer commanded who has lost it'* The 

extremity, Turenne exclaimed, — "I will bet Avager was instantly accepted, and the event 

a supper and a dozen of claret, that my justified the confidence of the general. — 

handsome Englishman will recover the Coxe's Memoirs^ Vol. i, p. 4. 
post, with half the number of men that the 



DURE OF MARLBOROUGH. 



467 



good of his country. It became his duty to guard the peace of EuroT)e 
ao*ainst the machinations of the most powerful monarcli of the worid. 
When his ''name became a watchword of fear," in France, and when he 
was honored with unlimited authorit}^ to represent and promote the separate 
and combined interests of the Grand Alliance ; to speak for the sovereigns 
of his own country, of Spain, Germany, Holland and Sweden, — he regarded 
his duties only as a sacred trust. The highest tokens of parliamentary 
respect and confidence, the most flattering considerations of royalty, and 
court distinctions, created in him no desire for increased power and personal 
Influence, — but discovered in his language " only the modest dignity of a 
great mind." ^ He would give " a thousand lives," ^ to the service of the 
Queen if patriotism demanded the sacrifice. Whatever happened adverse 
to his purposes, whether to contravene his plans, or to traduce his character, 
by "turning his services into crimes," ^ nothing was permitted to disturb 
his equanimity, or to tempt him to disregard his sense of public duty. His 
reverential submission to what he deemed to be the will of God, — was 
never allowed to be associated with doubt or levity.'* He assumed no 
questionable power, under the plea of military necessitj". Too much can- 
not be said in commendation of his undeviating respect for the civil authority 
at all times as superior to the military. His loyalty was of no doubtful 



i**The queen rejoiced," says Coxe, 
** that she could at length indulge the senti- 
ments of her gratitude towards the duke 
and affection towards the duchess. On the 
17th of February, 1704, she informed the 
house, in conformity to their application, 
she purposed to convey to the Duke of 
Marlborough and his heirs the interest of 
the crown in the manor and honor of Wood- 
stock, with the hundred of Wootton, and 
requested supplies for clearing off the 
encumbrances of that domain. A bill was 
introduced, and passed both houses without 
opposition. The preamble contained a 
recapitulation of the unparalleled services 
performed by Marlborough, not only to his 
own sovereign and fellow subjects, but to 
all Europe." * * * «' ^ot satisfied that 
the nation alone should testify its gratitude, 
the queen accompanied the grant with an 
order to the Board of Works to erect, at 
tiie royal expense, a splendid palace, which, 
in memory of the victory, was to be called 
the Castle of Blenheim.''— Coxc's Memoirs, 
Vol. I, p. 252. 



^ In a note to the Duchess, after speaking 
of the difficulties of party, he says, "As 
far as it is in my power, for the sake of my 
country and the queen, for whom, had I a 
thousand lives, I would venture them all." — 
Coxe's Memoir's^ Vol. ii, p. 5. 

3 Coxe says, " Marlborough was convinced 
that a House of Commons, a ministry, and 
a sovereign, who had already construed his 
former services into crimes, would pursue 
him with additional acrimony, and be con- 
tented with nothing less than his ruin. He, 
therefore, could no longer hesitate on 
securing that asylum abroad, which was 
denied to him in his native land. — Memoirs^ 
Vol. iir, p. 323. 

4 In a note to Godolphin, complaining of 
the dishonesty of officers, guilty of em- 
bezzlement, he says, — " God is most cer- 
tainly with us, or it would have been 
impossible to overcome the many difficul- 
ties we have met with." — Coxe's Memoirs^ 
Vol. II, p. 336. 



46S HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

meaning. It was the lo3\alty of peace and of the constitution. He saw in 
war only the means of peace, the removal of obstacles to government, the 
terrible instrument of defence, but not an end to be perpetuated. He 
recognized civil authority as the rule of safety, and military necessity as 
the reign of danger. His readiness for battle indicated no love of war for 
gain or distinction, but a loyaltj^ that was prepared for temporary sacrifice 
to secure a permanent peace. A general who cannot see the safety or dan- 
ger of a policy for peace, or war ; or is ignorant of the government which 
he represents, or that which he opposes, is an unsafe citizen, and therefore 
an unsafe officer. It is true, he ma}' be engaged in a war upon which all 
parties are united, but in such case his patriotism is not tested. 

It remains to be seen, what the Duke of Marlborough was as a partisan. 
In him we have an example, of what it is to be a soldier and not a states- 
man, a statesman and not a partisan. He studied the wants and capacities 
of armies, the designs and power of enemies, and yet allowed himself to 
be deceived by party prejudices, of which he was not conscious, and by 
party management which he was slow to understand. 

He inherited toryism.^ His veneration for kindred and early teachings 
disinclined him to party struggles. He imagined that he understood party 
distinctions, but he was indisposed to recognize either their influence, or 
value.2 He seemed to think that it was quite possible to lead, as com- 
mander of the armies, and yet take no part in the conflicts of political 
parties, upon which armies depend both for their character and direction. 
He thought of parties, as he thought of despotisms, as arbitrary and unjust. 
"The French," said he, "when they are masters, make no distinctions."* 
In a letter to his wife,* speaking of parties in England, he says,—" I think 
the two parties so angr}', that to ruin each other they will make no scruple 
of venturing the whole." And again, "I see by this last letter, (Sept. 30, 
1703) that 3'ou have mistaken my meaning in some of my letters; for 
though I may have complained of some you call 3'our friends, yet it never 
entered into my thoughts that they should be spoken to in order to have a 
better thought of me ; for I know they would be as unreasonable as the 
others in their expectations, if I should seek their friendship : for all parties 
are alike. And as I have taken my resolution of never doing any hardship 
to any man whatsoever, I shall by it have a quiet in my own mind ; not val- 
uing or desiring to be a favorite to either of them. For, in the humor I 
I am now in, and that I hope in God I shall ever be of, I think both parties 
unreasonable and unjust /'^^ In reply to the Puchess, who had communi- 



1 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. iv. Tbid.. 

2 Ibid, Vol. i, p. 235. 5 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. IZ$. 

3 Ibid, p. 134. 



DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 469 

catecl her husband's wish to resign, to avoid the entanglements of part}-, 
the Queen said, — "The thoughts that both my dear Mrs. Freeman,^ and 
Mr. Freeman, seem to have of retiring give me no small uneasiness." * 
* * "As for 3'our poor unfortunate faithful Morle^', she could not bear 
it ; for if ever you should forsake me, I would have nothing more to do 
with the world, but make another abdication ; for what is a crown when the 
support of it is gone? I will never forsake your dear self, Mr. Freeman, 
nor Mr. Montgomer}^, but always be 3'our constant and faithful friend ; and 
we four must never part till death mows us down with his impartial hand."'* 
The Duke's loj^alty to his sovereign nearly resembled devotion without 
judgment, and it was unpleasant for him to discriminate between the tory 
prejudices of the Queen, and her constitutional prerogatives. While the 
queen was perplexed in her weak endeavors to discriminate between the 
requisitions of part}^, and the constitutional duties of government, the 
Duke was reluctant to use his superior judgment in council to settle ques- 
tions which had given origin and rise to parties. He practicall}' adopted 
the absurdity that the government of a nation could be administered without 
the aid of parties, as if men were not made to differ as to means and 
methods of action. The part}" experience of Marlborough, was peculiar 
and instructive. At one time he claimed to be " of no jDarty," to be in the 
hands of the ministers as "white paper," upon which the}' might write 
whatever they pleased, thus constituting himself merely a passive agent.^ 
This position was a culpable error, — inasmuch as it degraded him below the 
dignit}' of citizenship, and the responsible standard of humanity. He soon 
found that such a position was impracticable. He then committed the 
error, common to men who claim exemption from all part}' distinctions, that 
a commander of an army is morally competent to lead to battle while igno- 
rant of its civil intent. " I shall serve the queen with all my soul," said 
he, "even to the hazard of a thousand lives if I had them. But while I 
live I will meddle with no business but what belongs to the army." But 
what an army is considered to be, detached from its governmental source he 
does not undertake to say. How he could serve the queen with all his soul, 
and " meddle with no business but what belongs to the army," he does not 
attempt to explain. But, perhaps, we can reach his meaning by reading 
what he adds : "And this I shall beg of the queen, on my knees, if there 
be any occasion for it ; and from henceforward shall never more use the 



1 To set aside the restraints of rank and frankness of my disposition, and the prin- 

custom, the princess offered her friend the cess adopted that of Morley." Montgomery 

choice of two feigned names, under which was given to Godolphin. — Coxe's Memoirs^ 

she proposed to continue their intercourse : Vol. i, p. 16. 

"I," says the duchess, "chose the name 2 ibid, p. 132. 

of Freeman, as more conformable to the 3 Coxe's Memoirs, Yol. hi, pp. 35, 111. 



4:70 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

expression of being of no part}-, but shall certainly not care what an}^ party 
thinks of me, being resolved to recommend myself to the people of Eng- 
land, by being to the best of m}^ understanding, in the true interest of my 
country." This would either make him a servile follower of the queen, 
supposed to be without party adherents, or a self-made leader subject to 
no part}', and 3'et subject to the will of the people representing all parties. 
The will of the people, it must be remembered, cannot be made known, 
until a polic}^ is defined and declared, and they have acted upon it. An 
appeal to them in advance of such action, is ordinarily the appeal of a 
demagogue who looks for support in exchange for a compliment. Whatever 
was his real meaning, he soon found, that any escape from party was impos- 
sible. If he followed the queen, he could not be ignorant of her utter ina- 
bility to lead, and whether he looked to the House of Lords, or to the House 
of Commons, to both, or to neither, and relied upon the Court for counsel, 
he could not but see the necessity of a discriminating judgment, the accept- 
ance or rejection of part}^ issues and conclusions. If he pursued a course 
acceptable to the Whigs, the Tories complained, and he was perplexed with 
importunities which implied a part}' confidence that he was not prepared to 
acknowledge. His unwillingness to identify himself with either party, 
rendered him justly liable to attacks from both parties.^ His predisposed 
confidence in the Tory party gave him an unsatisfactory experience which 
he had no desire to see continued. At first he imagined that he could reject 
the counsel of extreme men of both parties, and thus, to use his own lan- 
guage, "by the help of God I shall endeavor to govern myself by what I 
think is right, and not because it may be desired by a party." ^ Bat when 
he found that all parties had their extreme exponents, and if deprived of 
them, they would be without leaders, he came to the conclusion that he had no 
alternative but to choose between the two, and to give his confidence to 
that, which, upon the whole was founded on principle, and could be trusted 
through the trials of change. 

Moderation proved to be no remedy, and coalitions only aggravated 
existing evils, and often created new ones. The no-party man is always at 
the mercy of politicians and party writers. He is often urged forward, or 



1 Even at the army he was not beyond vey the slightest hint on the necessity of 

the spliere of contention. Godolphin, his conciliating the Whigs. Wearied with cen- 

constant correspondent, incessantly expa- sure and contradiction, he at length repeat- 

tiated on the divisions in the cabinet and edly declared his resolution of retiring from 

the clamors of party, and overwhelmed his a situation in which he could not obtain the 

friend with complaints on his own irksome support, or even indulgence of either party, 

situation and his unpleasant intercourse — Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 131. 

with the queen, who assailed him with 2 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 245. 
reproaches whenever he presumed to con- 



CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMAN. 471 

backward ; to leave a party, or to join a party ; to make a new issue, or to 
ignore an old one, — according to the degree of hesitation, or inclination 
with which he timidly expresses his opinions, and which he fails to disguise. 
He is constantly watched, his motives misrepresented, or exaggerated, and 
continued determination to evade party committals often involves him in 
greater difficulties than fall to the lot of extreme partisans. Marlborough 
was opposed by ambitious men,^ who despaired of his aid, and misrepre- 
sented by the spies of France who regarded him as the most powerful 
enemy to their master.*^ 

But, in the life of Marlborough, there is another element to be noted, 
without a knowledge of which, it would be difficult to understand either his 
conduct or character. During his whole mature life he was an ardent lover 
of his wife. She was a AYhig, and a devoted servant to the queen, who was 
a Tor3\ His wife and Anne were earl}^ dear friends. When tested by the 
heartless influences of official station, and by the realities of life, the most 
hallowed friendship was turned to bitter hate. The existing inequalities 
between Marlborough and the queen not only increased the difficulties of a 
practical application of the government, but these difficulties were compli- 
cated by the superior influence of " Queen Sarah," ^ the Duchess of Marl- 
borough. She w^as a lad}^ of remarkable capacity, combining talent with 
genius, and foresight with judgment. Her acquired knowledge, and quick 
understanding ; her keen sense of right, her fearless scorn of wrong, — gave 
her a promptness of manner, which at times seemed bold for a woman of 
refinement. Her relations of dut}^, with greatness in the character of her 
illustrious husband on the one hand, and with littleness on the other, in 
the person of her most intimate friend, the queen, frequently impelled her 
to utter language apparently impatient, and to do things, apparentlj- ill- 
natured. The unavoidable transitions of the mind of a pure and honest 
woman of quick perceptions ; from greatness to littleness, and from little- 
ness to greatness, — whose conceptions of duty embraced alike the affairs of 
the nation, the pride of personal distinction, the love and happiness of her 
domestic circle, — could not be otherwise than extreme and significant. It 
was, indeed, a wide range for the exercise of a mind naturally gifted and 
active, and correspondingly invested with the passions and aflTections of the 
noble soul of a true woman. 

And here, perhaps, as appropriately as in an}^ other connection, it may 
be profitable briefly to consider the mission and characteristics of woman. 
Such a digression will enable the student to read history with a clearer view 
of the motives, duties, and acts of men and women, as they are developed 



1 Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 34. 3 xhis title was given the Duchess in 

2 Ibid, p. 37. derision. 



472 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

in societj', or in government, and to draw an intelligent line of distinction 
between the peculiarities of sex, and the common properties of mind. 
Besides, both men and women who have capacity and high motives to be 
useful, ma}' be persuaded to see the economy of employing their time each 
in their own sphere. Such a course will secure to themselves and to 
societ}', more efficient labors, greater blessings, surer happiness. Co-part- 
ners engaged in commercial pursuits divide and subdivide their labors to 
insure efficienc}^ and success. Such a division of duties between man and 
woman, and man and wife, would be still more important, inasmuch as 
the fundamental lines are indicated by nature. 

THE MISSION AND CHAEACTERISTICS OF MAN AND WOMAN. 

A comparison of the sexes, with a view to disparagement or exaltation 
of the one, or the other, is not only of questionable taste, but of doubtful 
philosophy.^ Man was created for one sphere of duty, woman for another. 
Man was peculiarly fitted for one class of duties, woman for another. 
They cannot exchange places if they would, nor can they exchange duties 
which have been respectively assigned them by Divine appointment. We 
speak of fundamental duties, and here will be found the standard of princi- 
ple, which will lead to a correct classification of other duties of a minor 
nature, emanating from these. Each sex has a central point of duty and 
influence, fixed by nature, and independent of circumstances. To a certain 
extent, circumstances ma}' be modified by choice, or by necessit}-, but all 
deviations from the standard rule will be found to be in violation either of 
good taste, or of the natural laws. "What can be done best b}' man, should 
be regarded as man's dut}'. What can be best done b}' woman, should be 
left for woman to do. This view does not preclude that participation of 
duties, equally open to both sexes, and which do not depend for their suc- 
cess on the peculiarities of either sex. These, in no respect, constitute an 
element in the basis of society, and therefore may be executed b}- the skill 
of mind, whether in man or woman. 

But, because each sex has its separate sphere of duty, it must not be 
inferred that one sex can be independent of the other. Each has its peculiar 
responsibilities, and each receives and extends an influence to the other. Both 
have each a special mission, both have a common good, and this is great or 
small, much or little, as each is faithful to itself. Man can best contribute 
to the happiness of woman by noble and manly conduct, and woman can best 
refine and elevate man and society, by womanly acts and womanly virtues. 
Though each sex has its particular kinds and sources of knowledge, nec- 



^ Schlegel's Philosophy of Life, p. 47. 



MISSION OF MAN. 473 

essary for its own good and advancement, yet, to a certain degree, a 
common knowledge of the duties of both sexes is requisite to secure a 
harmon}^ of motives and unity of action.^ 

Man is endowed with phj^sical strength and power of endurance. He is 
endowed with intellect, instincts and passions fitted to explore the external 
world, and to brave the dangers which constantly threaten the joublic good, 
the peace of society, and the stabilit}^ of domestic happiness. His duties 
are outward, physical, subduing and cultivating. He meets his fellow in 
his full strength and maturitj^, and measures with him the skill of mental 
capacity, and the dexterity of limb and muscle. He explores and studies 
the earth, sea and air, that he may command their productions, and avoid 
their dangers. He captures and tames the wild and ferocious animals of 
the forest, and places safeguards against their depredations upon defenceless 
society. He conquers the monster, wherever found, and trains the sagacious 
beast wherever wanted. He meets and masters the foe of personal safety, 
the robber of gold and chastity, the oppressor of weakness, the slanderer of 
virtue and of innocence. He is the natural protector of the wife, the mother 
and the children of his generation, and of the homes where the}^ dwell, 
and where centres all his happiness, whether personal, private or public. 
He combines with his fellows and with society, to build up and to fortify 
the nation, without which, his home would not be worth preserving, and life 
would be valueless. He studies the arts and sciences with motives to 
practical results, and engages in an industry that is remunerative. The 
trades and professions are marked out and provided for, with a prudence to 
insure success, and to discourage pretence and empiricism. Navigation 
and commerce are defined and regulated in a manner to reward enterprise 
and encourage competition. It is his business to organize the government 
of the town, state and nation, and to enter into the necessarj^ conflicts of 
opinion to establish them, and to administer them according to the recog- 
nized standards of principle. To secure equal rights, and to protect 
property he organizes political parties, and enters into the bitter strife of 
public agitation, having often to meet the desperate shifts of ambition, and 
the disgusting schemes of selfishness and corruption. It is within his 
province to protect society against crime in its terrible variet}', and to 
guard the nation against the horrors of war. He makes the police and the 
army, and fights the battles enjoined upon the able bodied citizens demand- 
ed by the laws of his country. All these things he does for the world, for 
society, for himself, for his children, for woman, — and in obedience to the 



1 In Paradise lost, Milton says, He doubtless refers to knowledge proper 

" To know no more *^ woman in contradistinction to that which 

Is woman'shappiestknowledge, and her praise." is proper to man. 



474 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

sentiments and propensities of his nature, and to the declared will of God. 
His ph3'sical organization and mental constitution are adapted by his 
Creator to the performance of these rough, difficult and outward duties, and 
this adaptation is acknowledged by the people of all civilized nations. 

"Woman is that embodiment of soul, romance,^ beauty and delicac}', — • 
that gives refinement to societ}-, delight and enjoyment to the senses, and 
happiness to the mind. The earliest consciousness of the infant when 
pressed to its mother's bosom is spent upon its mother's delicate touch and 
beauty. Her soft lips, her speaking eyes, her gentle words, her playful 
patience, her sunny smiles — are permitted to make the first impressions 
upon its tender mind. These beautiful beginnings of life make its first store 
of knowledge. They enrapture maturing j'outh and manhood, and are exalt- 
ed by the poet, and dignified by the philosopher and the divine. Mother, 
becomes the most hallowed word of all languages. In the mother are to be 
found the deep and unalterable affections of the soul. '' Her smiles," says 
a gifted writer, " call into exercise the first affections that spring up in our 
hearts. She cherishes and expands the earliest germs of our intellects. 
She lifts our little hands, and teaches our tongues to lisp in praj^er. She 
watches over us like a guardian angel, and protects us through all our 
helpless years, when w^e know not of her cares, and her anxieties on our 
account. She follows us into the world of men, and lives in us, and blesses 
us, when she lives not otherwise upon the earth." ^ ''In all our trials," says 
Washington Irving, " amid all our afflictions, she is still by our side : if we 
sin, she reproves more in sorrow than in anger ; nor can she tear us from 
her bosom, nor forget that we are her child." As she is the centre of " that 
sweet fountain of all true life upon earth, the happy home," her nature 
should be permitted to command all the joyous elements of its atmosphere 
and surroundings. Without her it cannot be found, to create it is her 
mission. The characteristics of the true woman may be seen and felt, but 
language is inadequate to their description. 

Who, but the poets of all time, can delineate the beautiful outlines and 
exquisite features of the portrait of woman ! As the artist tints the canvas 
to represent the human countenance in its genial and happy moments, so 



1 Dr. Croly says, "In the whole course cheering the cheerless, softening the insen- 

of my hfe I never met a female, from the sible, renovating the withered ; a secret 

flat-nosed and ebony-colored inhabitant of whisper in every woman alive, that, to the 

the tropics to the snow-white and sublime last, passion might flutter its rosy pinions 

divinity of a Greek Isle, without a touch of round her brow." — " What Men have said 

romance ; repulsiveness could not conceal about Woman,'' by Henry Southgate, p. 153. 

it, age could not extinguish it, vicissitude A beautiful volume, and highly creditable to 

could not change it. I have found it in all its author, 

times and places ; like a spring of fresh 2 Thomas Carter, 
waters starting up even from the flint; 



CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMAN. 475 

let the poets speak of woman as she is seen in her sphere of duty ; Of her 
enduring and graceful actions ;^ her active sympathies'^ and irrepressible 
jo3^s ; her quick discernment^ and captivating acquiescence ; her sweet and 
varied attractions ; * her beauteous bearing in povert}^,^ her meekness in 
wealth ; her unpretending benevolence,^ her lenient and healing charity ; her 
winning modest}^ and unapproachable chastity ; ^ her pure friendship and sis- 
terly affection ; ^ her innocent impatience,^ and virtuous passion ;^^ her educa- 
tional instincts,^^ and circumspection ; her heroism in adversity ,^2 ^nd nice 
perceptions of duty ;^^ her refined taste and eloquent blushes ;^^ her lofty pride 
and approving admiration of chivalry ;^^ her peaceful dignity ,^^ and dauntless 
courage ;i'^ her speaking sentiments and silent eloquence ;isher beaming ej^es, 
her lovely face and form ;^^ her elegance and econom}- ;2^ her airy footsteps,^^ 
and quick discovery of suffering need ;^ her inspiring and purifying influence 
and innate judgement ; ^3 her jo3^ous laugh,^^ and bashful frown ; ^ her lively 
fancy and feeling heart ; her fairj^ musings and sensibility ;26 her helpless- 
ness,^'* and hopeful expectancy ; ^ her enchanting glances, and gently 
entreating voice f^ her rebuking wit, and submissive wisdom ;^ her innocent 
gaj^ety and buoyant spirit f^ her pensiveness and her sorrows ;^ her patient 
suffering, and quiet resignation ; her persuasive tears and cheerful con- 
tent ; ^2 the raptures of maternity,^ and her loveliness augmented by virtue 
and maturit}^ ; ^ her prayerful spirit and pious devotion ; ^ her ever endur- 
ing love ;3^ her trust in God, — these, these are some of the supreme quali- 
ties which mark and beautify the empire of perfect womanhood. Without 
them society would fall back to barbarism, and civilization would be 
impossible. No being but God can make them more, no creature but man 
would make them less. 



1 Milton. 20r>ryden. 

2 Bennoch, Bellew. 2i Scott. 

3 Byron. 22 Balfour. 

* Shakespeare. 23 Boardman. 



5 Cowper. 24 

* Dryden. 25 Southey. 

*? Addison. 26 Bulwer. 

8 Robert de Brunne. 27 Bethmont, Farquhar. 

9 Shakespeare. 28 Southgate. 

10 Scliiller. 29 Homer, Shakespeare, Massinger. 

11 Landor. 30 Shakespeare, Thomson. 

12 Washington Irving. 3i Qtway. 

13 Novalis. 32 Richter, Byron. 

14 Dr. Donne. S3 Saville. 

15 Burke. 34 Byron. 

16 Byron. 35 Addison. 

17 Tennyson. 36 Keats. 

18 Ibid, Shakespeare. 37 Sandford Earle, Byron, Irving. 

19 Ibid, Pinkney. 



476 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Some most intelligent and worth}^ people, of both sexes, however, would 
invade this hol}^ sphere of woman, consecrated by Divine love, and hallowed 
by the associations of domestic bliss. They speak of rights, as if love 
were created bj^ act of Congress ; they speak of freedom, when freedom is 
only found where happiness dwells ; they speak of propert}- , as if man's 
selfishness were not sufficient for humanit}', and that its degrading cares 
should be shared by woman ; they speak of female suffrage, as if it were 
a greater boon to act with wicked men than to influence them ; they speak 
of equality, as if the rights of men were superior to the privileges ordained 
by God. They seem to forget that there is an eternal fitness of things 
which cannot be changed, without new laws of being, new laws of order.^ 
Such changes bear no fruit but loss and disappointment. In no sense 
should the advancement and elevation of woman be limited ; but in aspir- 
ing to be more she should not consent to be less. To blend the beautiful 
with the common is natural. Good and evil, strength and weakness, go 
hand in hand together. The graceful and flowering shrub springs up 
beside the sturdy oak ; the fragrant flower blooms next the repulsive weed ; 
and the diamond sparkles in its dirty bed. He that would reduce them to 
a common level, and destroy that variety which comes from the source of 
all goodness and beauty, could he have his way, would soon obliterate the 
harmony which only can be found in distinct and separate creations, and 
supplant the means of life and happiness, b^^ the desolations of unmeaning 
sameness, and functionless existences. 

Female sufii'age has been discussed as connected with the principle of 
representation and taxation. Let this view be examined for a moment. 
All political rights are based, or should be, on the acknowledged principles 
of justice. The rights of man and woman in their joint relations, however, 
have another element in their foundation not to be disregarded — the divine 
law. Male and female are born in equal numbers — thus beautifully indi- 
cating the divine law of companionship of the sexes. The right of repre- 
sentation, connecting interests with principles, is exhausted by the sacred 
institution of marriage. Two are made one. A unit marks the centre of 
a perfect circle. This right of representation cannot be duplicated with- 
out danger to social harmony, or domestic happiness. It is to be remem- 
bered, too, that the principle of representation as connected with taxation 
has reference only to communities, not individuals. Besides, female holders 
of property, probabl}', do not number more than one in a thousand, and 
most of this small minority employ male agents to do their business. 
To suppose any hardship in such a condition is to dwell upon nominal disr 



1 To be man's tendermate was woman born, Solomon says, "A good woman looketH 

And in obeying nature she best serves well to the ways of her household, and all 

The purpoBeB of UtaYen."-Scfimer. j^^^ f^^^jy j^ ^.^^thed in scarlet." 



MISSION OF WOMAN. 477 

tinctions, — a habit -which is morally unprofitable. It is frequently said 
that some women are more capable of managing property than some men. 
This is conceded — but it proves nothing. Some men are known to be 
better qualified to take care of children — than their mothers — but it does not 
follow therefore, that it is advisable that such men should take their places. 
To elucidate still further, let the subject of property be considered. 

Property is impersonal. The vote that protects the money of the 
wealthiest man, equally protects the widow's mite. To invite the widow to 
vote would be equivalent to conferring upon her a barren privilege, an 
exhausted right. It would be like giving her permission to command the 
stone to fall ^ when she should drop it, or the water to run — when she should 
pour it. It is an apt and significant remark of Froude to illustrate a 
nominal agency : — " You do not preach to the acorn that it is its duty to 
become a large tree" Nor is it wisdom to spend much time in endeavors to 
estimate the value of the privilege of recognizing and enjo3'ing the identity 
of the widow's farthing that is merged in the wealth of societ}^, where mill- 
ions of all classes alike are equall}' interested and protected by the 
practical judgment and conventional wisdom of ages.^ 

It cannot be disputed that there are man}^ women of masculine endow- 
ments, whose tastes naturally lead them to s^^mpathize more with men, in 
their studies and pursuits, than with persons of their own sex. History 
affords many such examples, and it would be unjust to deny that such have 
made creditable contributions not only to literature, but to the arts and 
sciences.^ On the other hand, there are mau}^ men to be found of femi- 



1 The adyocates of female suffrage in of the bed-chamber to Queen Ferdinand, 
England had a fourth defeat in the House of the Catholic's second consort. Isabella de 
Commons in 1873. The vote, in a House Joya, sixteenth century, preached in the 
of 377 members, stood 310 to 67 — against cathedral of Barcelona. She solved many 
the measure. Female suffrage in England points, in the books of the subtil Scotus, 
exists in a modified form: — "Women vote before the College of Cardinals. Louisa 
in the municipal, parochial and school elec- Sigea is represented as mistress of Latin, 
tions ; they aid to elect mayors, vestrymen Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, and Syriac. 
and school committees composed of both Oliva Sabuco de Nantes is said to have 
sexes." — Boston Post, June 2, 1873. The written excellently on physical, medical, 
women of Wyoming Territory, JJ. S.,hoth moral and political subjects. Bernada 
vote and hold office. The recent moral and Ferreyra is described as well versed in 
devotional movements of women under the rhetoric, philosophy and mathematics, 
lead of Dr. Dio Lewis, in the Temperance Juana Morella is said to have possessed a 
cause, show the influence of woman as profound knowledge of philosophy, divinity 
woman. If these women were voters they and jurisprudence, besides speaking four- 
would have no more influence in such a teen different languages. French and Ital- 
movement than the men. ian ladies are said to have distinguished 

2 A Spanish book, entitled '■'■ El Tlieatro themselves, in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and 
Critieo" speaks of the following literary seventeenth centuries : — Susan de Hdbert, 
women in Spain : — Ann de Cervaton, Lady Mary de Gourney, Magdalene Schuderiy 



4Y8 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



nine characteristics. Such examples, however, must be regarded as excep- 
tions tending onl}^ to establish the line of distinction between the sexes. 
It ma}^ be remarked, too, that those women who speak of rights and of 
legislation with a design to reform the natural organization of society, 
generall}' possess, though not always, certain features of character repulsive 
to both sexes. The superior woman, intellectually seeks the superior man, 
but it cannot be denied that such partiality is not often reciprocated, unless 
both are stoics, in which case they meet more as man and man, than as 
man and woman. There are man}^ of both sexes who are passionless from 
their birth. Marriage can add but little to their happiness. The superior 
man, generall}^, admires woman in her mental perfection as woman, but not 
as man. The attractions of feminine beauty cannot be imitated by men, 
and woman degrades her higher nature when she attempts to appear like 
man. The most unlike of the two sexes, would be the most superior man, 
and the most superior woman. The less, therefore, each sex endeavors to 
imitate the other, the greater is the distinctive perfection of true character 



Ann la Fevre, Madame Dacier. In Italy, 
a Doctor's degree was conferred on Doro- 
thea Bucca. Laura Cereii taught philoso- 
phy in Brescia, at the age of eighteen. 
Isotta Nogarola, Cassandra Fideli, Cath- 
erine de Cibo, Duchess of Camerino, 
Lucretia Helena Cornaro — may be added 
to the Ust. Anna Maria Schurman, and 
others of Germany might be added. 

In the Carapo-Sante, Bologna, it is 
recorded on the tomb of a lady, who was 
professor of Greek in the University of 
Bologna, from 1794 to 1817. There was a 
still more remarkable case in this Univer- 
sity in the Hth century : — 3Iiss Novella d' 
Andross occupied one of the chairs with 
great success it is said, but not without 
apparent danger. Having great personal 
beauty, she was obliged to lecture behind a 
curtain, which concealed her person while 
it did not prevent her from being heard. 

At the fifth annual session of the Medi- 
cal College for Women, in London, Dr. 
Geo. Ross, in the inaugural lecture, says, 
** History abounds in narratives of women 
who have distinguished themselves in every 
vocation in life." He speaks of ITypaiia, 
of Alexandria ; of Clotilda Tambroni, pro- 
fessor of Greek at Bologna; of Elizabeth 
Carter, Caroline Herschel, and Mrs. Som- 



erville of England. The list of distin- 
guished ladies in England made complete 
would be an extended one. Some may be 
mentioned : — Joanna Baillie, Anna Letitia 
Barbauld, Maria Edgeworth, Hannah More, 
Elizabeth Hamilton, Mary Russell Mitford, 
Mary Wortley Montagu, Countess of Bless- 
ington, Harriet Martineau, Felicia D. 
Hemans, Barbara Hofland, Elizabeth Inch- 
bald, Miss Landon, Amelia Opie, Anna 
Maria Porter, Anne Radcliffe, Eliza Cook, 
Caroline Norton, Mary Howitt, Mrs. 
Browning. In France, Madame de Stael, 
Madame Dudevant, Mary de Sevigne, 
Susanna Centlivre, Madame D'Arblay, 
Sophia Cottin, Madame Junot. In Sweden, 
Fredrika Bremer. 

Among the gifted daughters of America, 
we may mention, — Hannah Adams, Miss 
Sedgwick, L. H. Sigourney, Sarah J. Hale, 
Lydia Maria Child, Hannah F. Gould, 
Mrs. Follen, Mrs. Nathan Hale, Margaret 
Fuller, Julia Ward Howe, Catherine 
Beecher, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Alice and 
Phoebe Gary, Mrs. Ellet, Mrs. Embury, 
Mrs. Parton, Caroline Gilman, Frances S. 
Osgood, Mrs. Z. Fay Pierce, Mrs. Lowell, 
Mrs. Livermore, Mrs. Stanton, Miss Alcott, 
Mrs. Horace Mann, Elizabeth Peabody, 
Anna Dickmson, Mrs. Lippincott. 



MISSION OF WOMAN. 479 

in both. A true woman, distinguished for her womanl}^ beauty, and woman- 
ly character, would influence a philosopher or statesman a thousand times 
more than one without such charms, who had mastered the works of New- 
ton, or La Place, or who had successfully labored in the fields of litera- 
ture.^ Let science and literature be added to these charms, and no stoic, 
however hardened by study, or exalted by philosophy — could be indifferent 
to her influence. Each sex must perfect its own peculiar character, before 
it can hope to attain to the highest degree of influence with the other. 
Man, by perversion, cannot improve upon what God has established. The 
supremacy of woman inheres in the laws of human existence, and such 
laws can neither be altered nor repealed. 

It has been trul}- said, that beaut}^ is nature's greatest force, and when 
Keats was inspired to write the line, — 



" A thing of beauty is a joy forever," 



he gave ample evidence of his ability to comprehend the sentiment in its 
application. The beauty of things, and the beauty of person, however, are 
widely different subjects. The phj'sical beaut}' of man and woman, — 
makes a part of their nature as connected with their instincts. It has a 
place in the economy of the human soul, — in the laws of progressive exist- 
ence. It inspires the union of the sexes with foretastes of happiness, with- 
out which humanity would be a blank, and life a dream. 

But it is not enough that the person of woman should be beautiful. She 
is endowed with exquisite tastes to be developed and gratified. These 
should be educated to the high standard of principle. Her inventive 
genius is associated with her pride, and vanity is crystallized into S3'stem, 
and finds its lawful appointments. In regard to things of beauty, the sexes 
act in harmony according to their tastes and means. Man labors for the 
woman he loves. In pleasing her he doubles his own happiness. As lover 
he becomes her servant. " To give pain is the tyrannj-, to make happ}' is 
the true empire of beauty," is the language of Steele. Of this empire, 
woman is the supreme head. Science and Art are made her servants. 
They explore the earth and ocean for the choicest gems, the rarest tissues 



^ Goethe says, — " We love a girl for very greatly elevate her in our opinion; nay 

different things than understanding. We more, it may enchain us when we already 

love her for her beauty, her youth, her love. But her understanding is not that 

mirth, her confidingness, her character, which awakens and inflames our passions." 
with its faults, caprices, and God knows "The beauty of a woman cheereth the 

what other inexpressible charms ; but we countenance, and a man loveth nothing 

do not love her understanding. Her mind better," is the language to be found in 

we esteem (if it is brilliant), and it may Ecclesiasticus, xxxvi : 22. 



480 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

and the finest fabrics. The spinner and weaver, the milliner and mantua- 
maker, the embroiderer and hair dresser of ever}- clime are in perpetual 
requisition to construct new fabrics, to devise new display's of color, new 
adornments for the human form. Chemists exert their skill to discover the 
cosmetic powers of nature, and to combine her varied fragrance into new 
perfumes. The muse and the votaries of art contribute their influence, and 
invest the altar of beauty with their wonderful enchantments. The metals 
are shaped and polished in every variety of form by the skilful smith, and 
studded with pearls, diamonds, "inestimable sapphires," rubies, and precious 
stones of ever}^ variety of tint and brillianc3\ No living animal, bird or 
insect — but is made to embellish the illimitable trousseau of woman. 

The pleasures of fashion are the delights of admiration. It is the rule 
of the senses. To meet their imperative demands the world is put into 
active competition in the production of novelties.^ This rivalry of senti- 
ment in the reign of beauty is woman's sole dominion. It is the absolutism 
of Beaut}'. Man has no place in it except as subject. As a being delight- 
ing in finery, he is seldom entitled to a place in histor}^ The recognized 
leaders of fashion are its despots. They are the only tyrants in the 
world that cannot be dethroned except by tyrants greater than them- 
selves. Even ro3'alty submitted to this despotism of beaut}' — when Queen 
Elizabeth issued her mandate to the dressmakers, to devise a diflTerent dress 
for every day in the year. It is a despotism that may be refined and 
improved — but never destroyed. 

The history of woman in all ages — indicates the condition and cultiva- 
tion of man and the refinements of society. Her mission as wife, mother, 
sister and friend — comprehends the highest culture, the noblest motives, 
the purest happiness, the wisest ends. Before her creation, the poet 
declares that, — 

' The world was sad ! the garden was a wild ! 
And man, the hermit sigh'd, till woman smiled ! " 

When seen and understood in her true position, her influence in every 



1 A lady engaged in the business of rent- complete wardrobe. Women don't like to 

ing dresses m one of our large cities, said wear the same dress to more than one or 

to a reporter : — " I am the inventor of this two parties in one season.. Now it is upon 

business. If you know anything about these female characteristics that I thrive, 

women, you know that the most of them To protect ladies against being caught 

have not only a passion for dress, but a wearing a hired dress — I alter the appear- 

weakness for novelty. The woman that ance of a dress every time it is worn. I 

has one calico dress wants two, and the am patronized mostly by the higher class of 

woman with ten silks wants eleven. The ladies." 
rule is good with the owners of the most 



MISSION OF WOMAN. 481 

clime is to ennoble humanity. Whenever and wherever woman is abused, 
man is debased. When neglected, society loses its charms, and life its 
ends. 

A woman may become a servant, a laborer, a mechanic, an artist, a 
clerk, a trader, a farmer, a shepherdess, a sextoness, a doctoress, a lawj^er, 
a magistrate, a preacher, a professor, an editoress, an authoress, a postmis- 
tress, a courtier, a. soldier, or a spy, — for she has been all these. These 
vocations do not specially prepare her to become a wife, or a mother, or to 
fit her to take her true position in societj-. They simply enable her to cul- 
tivate a special genius, or to secure a living, but the}- are not expected to 
develop her best energies, or to form her highest character. In all coun- 
tries where different kinds of labor are indiscriminate!}- followed by both 
sexes alike, — labor itself becomes degraded, and woman loses her high 
position as woman. 

In all ages, women have acted important parts in governments, in revolu- 
tions, in peace and in war. For good or evil they have influenced kings 
and queens, statesmen and generals. The}' have aided and encouraged 
patriotism, endured the hardships of war, cheered the brave, nursed the 
wounded, and soothed the dying.^ They have participated in plots of 
treason, organized mobs and committed violence, instigated crime and cor- 
ruption in government, and by their beauty and allurements have misled and 
ruined the weak, and the strong, and as Solomon says, have " increased 



the transgressors among men. 



»2 



It is not necessar}- to discuss in this place, the philosoph}' of the Salic 
law, although it cannot be regarded otherwise than an interesting subject 



1 In a letter addressed to the Earl of " There has been no great epoch .of human 
Dartmouth by a clergyman of Maryland, conflict," says Dr. Goss, "that has not 
dated Dec. 20, 1775, is the following para- given birth to extraordinary women — to its 
graph : — " Let a person go into any prov- Anne Askew, its Joan of Arc, its Agostinia, 
ince, city, town, or county, and ask the its Charlotte Corday, its ^Madame Roland, 
females, 'Are you willing your sons or its Florence Nightingale." He speaks of 
brothers should go for soldiers, and defend Bodocia, Semiramis, Deborah, the mother 
their liberties? ' they would severally of Israel. The influence of woman on 
answer, — 'Yes, with all my soul; and public men is a most important subject 
if they won't go, I won't own them as to be studied and understood. Examples 
my sons or brothers ; for I'll help myself if are to be found everywhere and at all 
there should be any need of mine. If times, and if collected would make a large 
I can't stand in the ranks, I can help for- volume. Tor example,— Talleyrand and 
ward powder, balls, and provisions." — Am. Dorothea, Wm. Penn, and. the maids of 
Archives, ith series, YoL,. IV, -p. 3&3. honor, in the time off James 111, (see 

2 The record of woman as queen, or Macaulay,) Franklin and Lord Howe's 
magistrate — will be found in works of his- sister, Maj. Andre and Mrs. Arnold, Gavour 
tory. Also, her record as connected with and Eistoria, etc. In the history of 
Kings, Emperors, and public ministers, the Drama, of; Genius, of the Fine. Ar.ts>. 

31 



482 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

if viewed in connection with a monarchical government.^ Where the crown 
is hereditar}', and the head that wears it is designated without reference to 
its experience, character or intelligence, — it becomes a useful inquiry to 
make, whether the occasional presence of a pure and virtuous queen would 
not exclude from the throne and court the impurities of bad men and 
women, and secure the influence of the pure and good of both sexes. The 
reader will be at no loss to imagine the evils of a que§n of an opposite 
character.^ 

But let us inquire, what it is — that gives to woman her great power over 
man, for good or evil? Is it her charms as woman, or is it her goodness or 
intelligence, — without reference to sex^ 

" The influence which the bigotry of one female," says Alexander Ham- 
ilton, " the petulances of another, the cabals of a third, had in the contem- 
porary policy, ferments, and pacifications, of a considerable part of 
Europe, are topics that have been too often descanted upon not to be gener- 
ally known." This was said in the sixth number of the *' Federalist," and 
he refers to Madame de Maintenon, Madame de Pompadour, and to the 
Duchess of Marlborough. By means of a love affair, Fabius Maximus 
was enabled to recover Tarentum, which had been treacherously delivered up to 
Hannibal.^ Pericles, in compliance with the resentments of a prostitute, 
Aspasia, at the expense of much of the blood and treasure of his countrymen, 
attacked, vanquished, and destroyed the city of the Samnians."* Thargelia, 
by her beauty, it is said, obtained the sovereignty of Thessaly, Plutarch 



and of Philanthropy — many women have ^ Plutarch thinks it proper " to inquire by 

made for themselves illustrious records. what art or power Aspasia captivated the 

1 By the Salic law females are excluded greatest statesmen, and brought even phi- 
from inheriting the crown of France. It losophers to speak of her so much to hex 
was instituted by Pharamond, A. D. 424- advantage. Some indeed say, that Pericles 
It was ratified in a council of state by made his court to her only on account of 
Clovis I., the real founder of the French her wisdom and political abilities. Nay, 
monarchy, in oil. — Henaulfs France. See even Socrates himself sometimes visited 
Hallam's ^^ State of Europe, During the her along with his friends; and her ac- 
Middle Ages" Vol. i, p. 32. quaintances took their wives with them to 

2 In speaking of certain questionable hear her discourse, though the business 
allegations of Isabella, queen of Edward that supported her M'as neither honorable 
II., who was said to be " one of the fairest nor decent, for she kept a number of court- 
ladies of the world," — Sir James Mackin- ezans in her house." — Plutarch's Lives^ 
tosh says, — " There is nothing, however, Vol. i, p. 276. Cratinus plainly calls her 
in the known morality of princesses in any a prostitute : — 

age which can exempt an alienated and 

enraged queen from tlie suspicion of seek- "".f,^^ ^""11 ^^'^ '^"7" *^J« f /'«^;^. 

, . . Skilled m the shameless trade and every art 

ing consolation m amours." — Hist, of Eng- of wantonness. 

land, p. 123. —Ibid, p. 278. 
2 Plutarch's Lives, Vol. i, p. 312. 



INFLUENCE OF WOMAN. 483 

says of her, — " She is reported to have descended from the ancient lonians, 
and to have reserved her intimacies for the great." She was murdered by 
one of her lovers.^ When Elpinice addressed Pericles as a suppliant, in 
favor of her brother Cimon, he evidently intended to remind her of a 
former power which she had lost b}' age. He said, smiling, "You are old, 
Elpinice ; much too old to solicit in so weighty an affair." Still, she saved 
her brother's life.^ 

"It is somewhat extraordinary," says Tytler, "that most of the revolu- 
tions of the Roman state should have owed their origin to women. To a 
woman, Rome owed the abolition of the regal dignity and the establish- 
ment of the republic. To a woman, she owed her delivery from the tyranny 
of the decemviri, and the restoration of the consular government ; and to 
a woman, she owed that change of the constitution b}^ which the Plebeians 
became capable of holding the highest offices of the commonwealth." ^ The 
judgment of Dr. Tytler is entitled to much consideration, and yet, in this 
passage he commits the common error of attributing great consequences to 
trivial causes. This subject, however, is discussed in another place.* 

The influence of woman is still greater, when it is combined with parental 
aff'ection. Themistocles, speaking of his son as being master of his 
mother, and by her means of himself, said laughing, — " This child is 
greater than any man in Greece ; for the Athenians command the Greeks, 
I command the Athenians, his mother commands me, and he commands his 
mother."^ 

But, perhaps, the most interesting example to illustrate the power of 
woman when moved by patriotism and affection, by the highest and purest 
motives of the soul, — is to be found in the history of Caius Marcius Cor- 
iolanus, an illustrious patrician of Rome, who had nobly defended his 
country in many glorious battles.^ He had been unjustly accused of 
treason, b}^ political enemies, and with precipitous excitement the tribunes 
condemned him, without trial, to be thrown from the top of the Tarpeian 
Rock. This sentence was subsequently changed to that of perpetual ban- 
ishment. Disgusted by perfidj", and stung to madness by an ungrateful 
people, — he forgot his own high standard of self-sacrifice, and studied only 
how he could be revenged upon his country. He surrendered himself to 
the enemies of his native land, the Volscians, and promised faithfully to serve 
them. The Volscians knew his character, they feared and honored him, — 
and placed him at the head of their army. Rome was endangered b}^ his 



1 Plutarch's Lives, Vol. i, p. 277. ^ Plutarch's Lives, Vol. i, p. 205. 

2 Ibid, Vol. i, p. 265. 6 We abridge from Plutarch's Lives, 

3 Univ. Hist., Vol. i, p. 348. Vol. i, p. 359. 

4 See Chapters on War and Revolutions. 



484: HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

advances, — and the government and people were in a state of consterna- 
tion and despair, — until relieved bj' a movement of the mother, wife and 
matrons of the city This is a lesson full of instruction, showing in a 
beautiful manner, what " women as women," can do. Their power was 
greater than that of state, or arms : it mastered both. It was greater than 
that of Revenge — that desperate sense of wrong that forces into its service 
all the passions of hate, — acknowledging no right, no honor, no love, no 
pity, no mercy, no fear. An abridgement of Plutarch's interesting account 
of this remarkable event has been placed in the Appendix, — so that tlie 
reader may not be without its teachings.^ 

During the French Revolution, it was decreed by the Municipality of 
Paris, i\i2it pretty women should not be permitted to appear at the Mayor's 
Office to make requests. This decree was opposed as absurd in a land of 
freedom. A member of the Common Council said, — " that in the land of 
freedom the public offices were necessarily open to all ; that tastes differed, 
and that a lady might be rejected as ugly by one, and admitted by anotiier 
as prett}^ ; and that young and old, handsome or plain, all might have busi- 
ness to do ; that, in short, the public offices could not execute the decree." 
Herbert, the Attorney of the Council, however, renewed his complaints 
against these Circes^ as he called them, to the great satisfaction of the 
crowd of women, most of them old, and all of them disgusting, who com- 
i:)Osed the auditory. 

This principle of influence was well understood by Louis XIV., when he 
induced the Duchess of Orleans to visit her brother, Charles the Second, 
and to take with her the young and beautiful Queronaille, knowing " that 
in order to fix him in the French interests, he had only to bind him by the 
ties of pleasure, the only ones which with him were irresistible.*' ^ The 
latter was soon created Duchess of Portsmouth. 

But for the quick suspicion of Duroc, and an observing cook. Napoleon 
would have been placed in an early grave by the hand of a woman. Two 
attempts were made on his life, one by Charlotte Encore, and one by 
Pauline Riotti. The former with avowed motives to public good, and the 
latter for revenge. The attempt of Charlotte led to an imperial decree for- 
bidding the approach of women to the person of the Emperor without spe- 
cial permission. No man, probabl}^, ever had more experience than Talley- 
rand, in employing women to aid the purposes of public ministers. It has 
been said that his female agents of secret diplomacy were frequently more 
useful than those of the other sex. His belief in the necessity of intrigues 
made him a good judge of character, of both sexes. His respect for suc- 
cess above principle exempted him from all suspicion of conscientious 



1. See Appendix, e. 2 Hume's England, Vol. vi, p. 



INFLUENCE OF WOMAN IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS. 485 

doubts. The fact that the diplomatic agency of women is of a secret 
nature clearly discovers its true character. Public men are slow to con- 
fess their follies connected with their duties, or their weaknesses as the 
sources of their merit. 

How can it be explained that the famous Madame Chevalier^ should exert 
an influence sufficient to command greater fees than any government pays to 
its foreign ambassadors? She could boast of no sacrifice to public good, 
of no husband entitled to respect, of no children to excite sympathy, of no 
connections to insure confidence, no act of virtue or valor to inspire the 
heart of chivalry, nor of physical beauty to fascinate the weak, or to 
attract tJhe manly eye of admiration. In person she was short, fat and 
coarse. Her mouth was large, her eyes hollow, and her nose short. Her 
language was obscene, and her manners familiar and vulgar. With her 
unprincipled husband, she took an active part in low political intrigues, 
and secured the friendship of jacobin cabals. In contemplating such qual- 
ities the reader fails to discover any power to fascinate either man or 
woman. And yet, with all these traits of character, combined with a bold 
and insinuating address of a reckless woman, reckless only of what she 
did not prize, and bent only on what she was bound to accomplish, whether 
good or evil, — but few were capable of withstanding her vile temptations, 
her wicked purposes. Thus, it is to be seen, that female influence, whether 
exerted for public good or public calamity, — is the influence of woman as 
woman, and not as woman in the official place of man.^ 

The reader will recollect with how much truth it is written in the Book 
of Esdras, in the argument before King Darius, — to prove the strength of 
woman : — " Yea, a man taketh his sword, a,nd goeth his wa}^ to rob and to 
steal, and to sail upon the sea and upon rivers ; and looketh upon a lion, 
and goeth in the darkness ; and when he hath stolen, spoiled, and robbed, 
he bringeth it to his love. Wherefore a man loveth his wife better than 
father and mother. Yea, man}^ there be that have run out their wits for 
women, and become servants for their sakes. Many also have perished, 
have erred and sinned, for women. And now do you not believe me? 
Is not the King great in his power ? Do not all regions fear to touch him ? 
Yet, did I see him and Apame, the King's concubine, the daughter of the 



1 She was the daughter of a workman at 2 De Lolme says, — *' As one instance how 

a silk manufactory at Lyons ; she ceased to little man is known to himself, it might be 

be a maid before she had attained the age mentioned that no tolerable explanation of 

of woman, and lived in a brothel in her that continual phenomenon laughter has yet 

native city, kept by a Madame Thibault, been given; and the powerful complicate 

where her husband first became acquainted sensation which each sex produces in the 

with her. — Secret Hist. Court and Cabinet other, still remains an equally inexplicable 

of St. Cloud, p. 226. mystery." — Eng. Constitution, p. xxiil. 



486 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

admirable Bartacus, sitting at the right hand of the King, and taking the 
crown from the King's head, and setting it upon her own head ; she also 
struck the King with her left hand. And yet for all this the King gaped 
and gazed upon her with open mouth : if she laughed upon him, he laughed 
also : but if she took any displeasure at him, the King was fain to flatter, 
that she might be reconciled to him.^ " 

It was clearly proved that woman was stronger than either the King, or 
Wine. To compare any earthly power with truth, is inadmissible. Truth 
is an attribute of Deit3\ 

To what living man w^ould Herod have made the unconditional promise 
that he made to the daughter of Herodias ? And for whom, at that pass- 
ing moment, but for the beautiful daughter, would he have dared to shed the 
sainted blood of John the Baptist to redeem that promise ? 

In speaking of the French Revolution, Lamartine says, — " Of all the 
passions of the people, their hatred was the most flattered ; they made it 
suspicious in order to subject it." If this passion was the most flattered, it 
would find its centre in that passion which is the m.ost powerful and active 
— which is sexual love. And in regard to female influence during this 
period, Lamartine adds : — "The first act of the people was to degrade super- 
ior authority. The esprit de caste impelled the nobility to emigrate, the 
esprit de corps similarly influenced the officers, and the esprit de cour made 
it shameful to remain on a soil stained with so many outrages to royalty. 
The women, who then formed public opinion in France, and whose tender 
and easily excited imagination is soon transferred to the side of their 
victims, all sided with the throne and aristocracy. They despised those 
who would not go and seek their avengers in foreign lands. Young men 
departed at their desire ; those who did not, dared not show themselves. 
They sent them distaff's, as a token of their cowardice.^ 

During the American Revolution, indeed, it may be said of all public 
commotions where human nature is developed, the women have had their 
parts to act, and the parts assigned to them have been particularly adapted 
to their highest, or to their lowest nature, as women. In New York the 
Tories were greatly indebted to unprincipled women.^ It was said of the 
wives and children of the Tories, as partisans, that they were much worse 
than the men.^ British wives were regarded as more dangerous than their 
husbands,^ and when ministers desired information which they could 
not obtain by direct intercourse the}' employed women.^ Women were 
employed to act both as spies and counsellors.'^ " We examined six or 



1 Esdras, iii : 4. 5 Life of President Reed, Vol. ii, p. 147. 

2 Hist. Girondists, Vol. i, pp. 40, 187. ^ Am. Archives, 4th S., Vol. ii, p. 182. 

3 Paine's Polit. Writings, Vol. i, p. 115. ^ Life of President Reed, Vol. ii, p. 274, 
^ Am. Archives, 4th S., Vol. hi, p. 852. and Am. Archives, 4th S., Vol. vi, p. 429. 



INFLUENCE OF WOMAN IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS. 487 

seven women," says Gov. Livingston, in a letter to Gen. Washington/ 
" who came from New York, and though thej' appear to he ^yhigs, and 
had part of their effects and near relations amongst us, have a number of 
stories to tell, which, though probably told with no ill intention, yet have a 
natural tendency to discourage the weaker part of our inhabitants. For 
my part I am utterly against this kind of communication between this 
State and New York, and could earnestly wish the officers under your com- 
mand would be as sparing as possible of their permissions. The sex are 
mistresses of infinite craft and subtlety, and I never heard or read of a 
great politician who did not emplo}' petticoats to accomplish his designs." ^ 
Here, in justice to true statesmanship, and to show his contempt for the 
intriguing politician, the Governor adds, — " Certain it is that the greatest 
politician on record, I mean the devil, applied himself to a female agent to 
involve mankind in sin and ruin." ^ It was a remarli of Dean Swift 
in one of his letters, — " that the best intelligence he got of public affairs 
was from the ladies." As his information seldom proved to be correct, it 
remains to be shown whether his inaccuracies were in the intelligence 
received or in the language of his communications. 

To the peculiar influence of woman in the afl'airs of government, neither 
Jefferson, nor Franklin was an indifferent observer. In a letter to Gen. 
Washington, dated at Paris, Dec. 4th, 1788, Jefferson sa3's, — "In my 
opinion, (speaking of France,) a kind of influence which none of their 
plans of reform take into account, will elude them all ; I mean the influence 
of women, in the government. The manners of the nation allow them to 
visit, alone, all persons in office, to solicit the affairs of the husband, familj', 
or friends, and their solicitations bid defiance to laws and regulations. 
The obstacle may seem less to those who, like our countrj'men, are in the 
precious habit of considering right as a barrier against all solicitation. 
Nor can such an one, without the evidence of his own ej'es, believe in the 
desperate state to which things are reduced in this country from the omnipo- 
tence ot an influence which, fortunately for the happiness of the sex itself, 
does not endeavor to extend itself in our country beyond the domestic 
line." 4 



1 Am. Archives, 5th S., Vol. hi, p. 617. 3 Qn an exciting occasion. May, 2d, 1738, 

2 That woman by nature was not created " a party of Amazons," as Lady Mary W. 
to lead in public aflPairs has been the judg- Montagu calls them, headed by the Duchess 
ment of people of all nations during all of Queensbury and Ancaster, stormed the 
time: — " The ken does not announce the House of Lords, and disturbed the debate, 
morning" was an ungallant, but ancient *' not only by smiles and winks, but by noisy 
proverb of the Celestial Empire, 1200 years laughs and apparent contempts, which is 
B. C. At this period — a beautiful woman supposed," she adds, " to be the true reason 
was preferred to all other presents to why poor Lord Hervey spoke so miser* 
redeem a prisoner in the hands of the ably."— //ert'ei/'s >/ewozV.?, Vol. i, p. li. ^ 
Chinese Emperor.— aS'/ioo-jK/i^, p. 191. ^ Jefferson's Works, Vol. ii, p. 536. 



488 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Ill a letter to his wife, dated at London, June 10th, 1758, Dr. Franklin 
Trrites, — " You are very prudent not to engage in party disputes. Women 
never should meddle with them, except in endeavors to reconcile their hus- 
bands, brothers, and friends, who happen to be of contrary sides. If your 
sex keep cool, you may be the means of cooling ours the sooner, and restor- 
ing more speedil}' that social harmon}^ among fellow citizens, that is so 
desirable after long and bitter discussions." ^ 

Thus, in all times, and by eminent men of all countries, this question has 
been discussed ; but rather, as one of an incidental nature than one to be 
deliberately considered by statesmen, and acted upon by legislators. 
History is full of instruction upon it, — and it may, or may not be regarded 
as a matter of regret that it cannot receive a more extended notice in this 
place. Should the reader, however, be disposed to pursue further this 
inquiry, he might be able to limit his analysis somewhat, b}^ observing the 
terms as stated in a proposition bj' Dean Swift — in which he simpl}^ asserts 
the facts of nature. " There were two passions in the human heart," he 
says, " superior to the government and control of reason, and which were 
planted there by a particular Providence ; these were, the love of life, and 
the love of the sexes." He stated this as a maxim. It was repeated as 
such in the British Parliament a hundred years ago with the remark, " that 
these passions were wisely planted in our bosoms for the preservation and 
happiness of the species, and no human law could possibly destroy or even 
diminish them." ^' He will find much that is profoundly instructive on this 
subject in the Bible. Also in the works of Aristotle.^ Virgil and Lucre- 
tius appreciated more the romance than the philosophy of love. On this as 
on all other subjects, the pages of Shakespeare constitute a fountain of 
wisdom, but his opinions, like flowers, are to be selected b}" a discrimina- 
ting judgment to show their teachings. Burton saw much both in man and 
woman to laugh at, and if his readers fail to find profit in his mirth, they 
may find practical knowledge in his facts. Montaigne pictured nature in her 



J 1 Sparks' Franklin, Vol. vii, p. 1G8. powers presiding over child-birth. At the 

2 Pari. Deb. Vol. xxir, p. 400. same time the female mind, in this delicate 

3 In speaking of " the state of body most situation, should be diligently attended to, 
likely to supply the commonwealth with neither soured by neglect nor rutiled by 
good children," he gives practical counsel passion, but amused by images of pleasure, 
to both sexes. He says, — "Winter is the and soothed into unalterable serenity; for 
fittest season for consummating marriage ; ])lants do not more certainly indicate the 
and, as naturalists tell us, when the wind soil from which they spring, than children 
blows from the north." For preventing receive and reflect the temper of their 
evils of excess, of any kind, he says, — parents." — ^^ Ethics and Pol iiics," You u, 
"the legislator should enjoin his country- p. 246. Such instructions to husbands and 
women, when pregnant, to walk daily to the fathers, if not to legislators — would be val- 
temples, and pay their <devotions to the uable even in our days. 



THE NATURE OF JEALOUSY. 489 

freedom and frolics, but lie said but little to aid her in the restraints nec- 
essary to refinement. But in his essay on Love, Lord Bacon embodies 
tlie subject in a single sentence : — " Nuptial love maketh mankind ; friend- 
ly love peifecteth it ; but wanton love corrupteth and embaseth it." 

But to conclude this chapter: If one would solve the mystery of 
woman's power he must be able first to measure the vast domain of love 
that is guarded by the countless and sleepless eyes of jealous}^ As used 
in the Bible, this word denotes godly indignation against the diversion of 
love and service from their proper objects. In its dire perversions, jealousy 
has been denominated by the poets, — " a hag," " a monster," '' an infernal 
fury," " a hell," " the pain of pains." With unsurpassed power and com- 
pleteness, Shakespeare in Othello, has delineated this passion in its fright- 
ful intensity, and bitter miseries. His visions of light and darkness, of 
heaven and hell, of happiness and misery, in close proximity, are made 
startling realities. Othello is placed upon the verge of each condition to 
contemplate the deep and narrow chasm that divides the heaven which he 
can see, from " the spite of hell," which he cannot imagine. Without the 
possession of his wife in her purity, he impiously bewails life as a cruel 
delusion, and invokes oblivion as comparative bliss. In the scale of jealous 
love the weight of a single woman in her faithfulness is greater than God 
and heaven, the world and the universe. These are the extremes of exist- 
ence, and comprehend all the relations of life. 

Jealousy has been called a disease, a malady of the mind. This is an 
error. It is confounding the abuse of the passion with its exalted objects. 
It is enumerated by naturalists as one of the instincts of Birds and 
Animals, and the history of its manifestations in works on Zoology and 
Ornithology is highly interesting and instructive. It illustrates the law 
upon which the continuance of the diflTerent species mainly depend. The 
ancients recognized it in their Mythology, and man}^ of the cruel and won- 
derful achievements of the gods were instigated hy its irresistible activity. 

When interpreted, however, by philosophy and religion, it is found to 
be an invulnerable shield to protect the sexes in their highest purity and 
dignity. It is seen to be the frenzy of all the passions united into one to 
guard in woman what belongs to man, and in man what belongs to woman. 
It is the spirit of love in its purit^^, of honor in its integritj", and of justice 
in its conceded rights. It is the sentinel of home conseci'ated by the loy- 
alty of the sexes ; the guardian of happiness made perfect by the constant 
observance of the natural laws. It lovingly confides without disguise, 
and nobly concedes freedom without meanness. What possession is to 
property, jealousy is to the soul. It grasps its own. All the faculties and 
instincts of mind have their appointed functions. These are governed by 
unalterable laws. Every faculty, sentiment and propensity, — ^has each its 
own indestructible sphere in nature, and though they may be often violated, 



4 DO HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

they never can be abrogated. They all have a voice in jealousy. 

Man and woman have a joint existence. Whatever they think or do, 
should be for the good of both. Whatever the}^ propose or desire, should 
be enjojed together. Whatever they possess should be alike protected 
by the same laws. In this joint existence inhere all the duties, rights 
and privileges of life. The best good of one, is the best good of 
all. Human happiness, like the globe, is divided into two hemispheres, 
one for man and one for woman ; but the sphere is complete only when 
both are united. 

It ina}' be asked : — What has the subject of woman, to do with democ- 
racy? Much. More than can be written. As daughter, maiden, sister, 
lover, wife and mother, — numbering one-half of the human family ; the 
peerless beauty of creation, the heart of affection, the soul of home ; the 
first teacher of children, the life companion of man, the joyous refiner of 
societ3^, — woman stands at the fountain-head of all human joys, blessings 
and happiness. The gushing streams from this inexhaustible fountain are 
made pure by her filtering hand, and beauteous b}^ the magic eloquence of 
her smiles and beaming eyes. Without her, democracy could have no 
beginning, and with her, democracy can have no end. God has so blended 
her with man in the paths of love and dut}", that both would be lost if one 
were to try the journey of life without the other. 

But enough of prose. This subject belongs to the poet. Let Tennyson 
close the chapter on woman ; 

" For woman is not undevelopt man, 

But diverse : could we make her as the man, 

Sweet love were slain, whose dearest bond is this 

Not like to like, but like in difference : 

Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; 

The man be more of woman, she of man ; 

He gain in sweetness and in moral height, 

Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; 

She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care : 

More, as the double-natured poet, each : 

Till at the last she set herself to man. 

Like perfect music unto noble words ; 

And so these twain upon the skirts of Time, 

Sit side by side, full-summ'd in all their i)owers, 

Dispensing harvest, sowing the to-he^ 

Self-reverent each, and reverencing each, 

Distinct in individualities, 

But like each other e'en as those we love. 

Then comes the statelier Eden back to men, 

Then rei^n tlie world's great bridals, chaste and calm; 

Then springs the crowning race of human-kind ! " 



DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. 491 

As the Duchess of Marlborough was a most prominent and active 
personage in the reign of Queen Anne, it is proper that some further atten- 
tion should be given to the consideration of her character. 

THE DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. 

The Duchess of Marlborough is entitled to some defence against the 
many aspersions cast upon her temper as a woman. History has not done 
her full justice. Horace Walpole speaks of her experience as of " sixty 
years of arrogance." The confidence of a superior judgment and of knowl- 
edge is not arrogance. If she had been a man, and had uttered the same 
language, the same opinions, the same sentiments, and urged them with the 
same energies, — which all agree in attributing to her, she would have been 
numbered among the ablest statesmen of her time. A woman cannot 
use the manly language of a statesman, without misapprehension and dis- 
advantage. Boldness is called insolence, promptness petulance, and impa- 
tience anger. According to Swift, the Duchess was the victim of "three 
furies which reigned in her breast, the most mortal of all softer passions, 
which were, sordid avarice, disdainful pride, and ungovernable rage." It 
was verj' difficult for Swift to see merit in political opponents. He would 
be slow to see virtue in frugal ambition, to discover noble aspirations in 
pride, or to discriminate between ungodly anger and righteous indignation. 
That the Duchess was a good manager of propert}*, and had a commenda- 
ble ambition to increase it with distinct motives to its uses ; ^ that she had 
great pride, in harmony with other faculties, and did not disguise it in all 
her plans and purposes ; that she had strong and active passions, which 
were easily and naturally excited under circumstances sufficient fully to 
explain and justify their unrestrained manifestation, no one, probably-, 
acquainted with her history, would be disposed to doubt. But, with a hus- 
band, such as Lord Marlborough, the greatest character of the age ; with 
an early position of influence within the circles of royalty, and of the 
courts of Europe ; with an almost unlimited power of patronage, and 
unsurpassed influence which personal beaut}^ ever commands ; ^ with an 



1 The Duchess of Marlborough, who, pounds to Wm. Pitt, afterwards Lord 

of all her class, was the first to detect Chatham, for the noble defence he made in 

the fallacy of the South Sea Bubble, support of the laws of England, and to pre- 

When the value of the stock rose to an vent the ruin of his country. — Mts. Thorn- 

unprecedented height, and the public were son's Memoirs, Vol. ii, pp. 311, 504. 

more than ever infatuated by false hopes, 2 Beautiful according to the opinion of her 

she saved her husband and her family from contemporaries, her beauty indeed appears 

ruin, not only by her foresight but by her in the portraits painted in her bloom of youth, 

firmness. She left a legacy of ten thousand to have been commanding as well as interest- 



492 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

accurate knowledge of human nature, and keen perceptions of its follies 
and weaknesses, and of the necessary means to meet and master them ; 
with a comprehensive judgment of the w-ants of a great nation, and of its 
limited and uncertain means of supplying them, — nothing less than an 
energetic action, a display of sentiments corresponding with high and pure 
motives, an ambitious spirit and loft}^ pride — would have been natural, or 
equal to the emergencies of her individuality. " Sordid avarice," is a 
mean spirit, with no motives beyond itself; " disdainful pride," is the inso- 
lence of vanitj-, and senseless; and "ungovernable rage," indicates the 
want of mind, the want of judgment. Such opinions are not applicable to 
the Duchess of Marlborough, whose marked qualities were almost of an 
opposite nature. Her love of property was mainly in view of its uses ; 
her pride was a natural consciousness of her own great powers and 
cherished wishes ; and her rage, but an undisguised expression of indigna- 
tion at culpable wrong, or perhaps an inconsiderate contempt of unaccount- 
able stupidity. She was called " a good hater," but no one accused her of 
liking what was bad, or of hating what was good.^ This quality was valued 
by Dr. Johnson as an evidence of principle. She was said to have been a 
tyrant over Anne, and her enemies accused her of ingratitude, arrogance and. 
intrigue. The stream of such qualities is more likely to flow from the 
lesser to the greater capacit}'. But, if such charges were sustained b}^ facts, 
in an}^ degree, it could be asserted without hesitation, that no one of her 
time and standing, was more innocent of their meaning, or less chargeable 
with their application. ^ 

It cannot be denied, however, that her participation in public affairs had 



ing. Her figure is asserted to have been self, though you don't think it manly to 

peculiarly fine, and her countenance was complain. As I am of the simple sex, I 

set off by a profusion of fair hair, which say what I think without any disguise ; 

she is said to have preserved without its and I pity you very much for what a man 

changing color, even at an advanced age, of sense and honesty must suffer from those 

by the use of honey-water. Several years sort of vermin, which I have told you 1 

after she had become a grandmother, the hate, and always avoid." 

freshness of her lovely complexion, and 2 it was more her judgment, than her 

her unfaded attractions, caused her, even pride or passion, that influenced her to 

in the midst of four daughters, each distin- exclude the Tories, as much as possible, 

guished for personal charms, to be pre-emi- from the presence of the Queen. In 

nent among those celebrated and high-bred explaining her personal hostility to Lord 

belles." — The Life of Colley Gibber. Rochester, she declares "that she could 

1 She evidently understood her own have forgiven his lordship's ill-treatment of 

peculiarities. In a letter to Mr. Schrope, herself if she had thought that hp had 

she says, — "I am very glad that you like sought to promote the Queen's true interest, 

what I am doing, and though you seem to But the gibberish of that party," alluding to 

laugh at my having vapours, I cannot help the Tory party, *' about non-resistance, and 

thinking you have them sometimes your- passive obedience, and hereditary right, I 



DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. 493 

a tendency, in some degree, to change the delicac}' and grace that give 
charms to woman into ruder habits of thought and action. This was her 
sacrifice or misfortune, and was the natural consequence of her constant 
and familiar intercourse with public men and on business in which her hus- 
band was deeply concerned, and which did not permit the exercise of those 
refining qualities so necessary to the perfection of character in the true 
woman, the wife and the mother. It proved to be her exalted mission and 
for which no one had more appropriate endowments, to represent the great 
principles of democracy under extraordinary tests and difficulties — and in 
a period marked by the unbounded schemes of an unprincipled part}- and 
reckless ambition. No man could have filled her place. She was the 
cherished bosom companion of royalty, a Tory Queen, whose chief coun- 
sellor was the gifted and brilliant Bolingbroke, the bright hope of Toryism 
itself. She was the wife and joy of the Great Duke of Marlborough who 
held in his hands the turning destiny of nations. "Who, while he was 
moving the might}' armies of the Grand Alliance to establish peace and 
justice in Europe, and awake to the read}^ means of triumph in the field and 
cabinet abroad ,-^was blindly and confidently looking for aid and sup- 
port from a Tory government at home. Who, but a loving and beautiful 
wife, nerved and elevated by " the pride of purity " — could teach the hard}^ 
soldier the mysteries of party and statesmanship against the influences of 
example and education? With no annoying apprehensions of ignorance 
or of doubt, and armed with the simple but mighty convictions and appli- 
ances of truth and duty, — she approached the outward forms and insignia 
of greatness with an instinctive courage and an unerring foresight that 
only can be found in that " desire of fame where justice gives the laurel." 
She demonstrated the immeasurable diflference in woman between the pre- 
rogatives of royalty moved by the influences of error, and of the intellect 
and heart armed with the power of truth. With skill and wise discrimina- 
tion she displayed the instructive contrast between the minds of a democratic 
woman and a Tory statesman. And, by the sway of deep aflfection and 
persistent reason, — she converted the capacious mind of the greatest mili- 
tary hero of the world from the delusions of toryism to the privileges of 
democracy. 



could not think it forboded any good to my vIgav with the Queen she boldly demanded 

mistress, whose title rested on a different to know the charges against her, and their 

foundation." — Conduct^ p. 132. In another authors. The Queen would give no an- 

place she plainly admits, *' I did speak very swer. The Duchess gives an account of 

freely and very frequently to Her Majesty it in her own language, and says, " 1 shall 

upon the subject of Whig and Tory, make no comment upon it. Yet," she adds 

according to my conception of their differ- with magnanimity, *'the Queen always 

ent views and principles." This was coun- meant well, however much soever she may 

sel, not tyranny. In her last bitter inter- be blinded or misguided." 



491 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

That she was not controlled by the dogmatists of theology is certain. 
That she made for herself a good record for integrity, purity of character 
and directness of purpose, at all times and without respect to persons, is 
equall3'true. " She tumbled out hermind," apparently unconscious of the petty 
restraints of policy, and no one was ever deceived or misled by her flattery. 
It was impossible for her to act the hypocrite, and if she was " impetuous " 
in her speech, it proceeded rather from urgent and important considera- 
tions of truth against error, — than from the want of distinct motives, or 
the recklessness of ignorance. Considering that she was in love with a 
Tory, it was evidence of her greatness that she chose to be a democrat. 
Her opinions of the Tories, and of the dangers of their policj^, were always 
expressed with a remarkable discernment of public exigencies, and with a 
spirit of justice. Her standing as a Whig, was marked by intelligence, 
consistency, and prompt action. She was at once a vigilant observer, a 
ready learner, and an honest adviser. She did not act without giving 
cogent reasons for her faith, and she often showed that she was above the 
influence of corruption, and the temptations of titles and oflfice.i That she 
gave her mind to politics was neither singular nor strange, considering her 
remarkable capacity and peculiar position. It was as natural in centering 
all her tastes and interests in public affairs identified with home, as the law 
of gravitation in taking all matter to a common centre. As she loved her 
husband with all the passions of a woman, highly endowed by nature and 
exalted by station, she saw no other course that would enable her to under- 
stand his motives, movements, and acts, and to participate in public aflTairs 
sufficiently to allow her to measure his wants and to share the satisfaction 
of his glorious achievements. She could trace the injustice of his enemies, 
and solve the intrigues of party. So long as her husband lived, she could 
not but follow him in his eventful career. Her life was in him, and his 
deeds were made her own.^ So long as he was identified with the progress 



• "When her husband was honored by the in the changed relations between the Queen 

Queen by a dukedom — she remarked, — and herself. "As to private interest," she 

"Ambition had no share in procuring that says herself, "the "Whigs could have done 

new title." She said also, "when I read nothing for my advantage more than the 

the letter first upon it, I let it drop out Tories." — Conduct, p. 130. 
of my hand, and was for some minutes 2 Even after his death, the Duchess refused 

like one that had received the news of the hand of the proud Duke of Somerset, 

the death of one of their dear friends ; I That he was not of the same political senti- 

was sorry for anything of that kind having ment showed that she commanded the res- 

before all that was of any use." She pect of her opponents. She declined a 

declined a pension ofiered by the Queen, second marriage as unsuitable to her age. 

The fact that she afterwards accepted it. She said, " that were she addressed by the 

was only conforming to the standard of emperor of the world, she would not permit 

principle which she thought she discovered him to succeed in that heart which had been 



DUKE AND DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. 



495 



of nations and with their varying governments, — it was her choice, her 
nature, her happiness, — to study public affairs and to manifest a woman's 
interest in whatever concerned her husband's character and welfare. Just 
so far as she knew her husband's motives to be pure and good, it was 
natural that she should express her dislike to his enemies. If they were 
extremely unjust, who could censure her extreme dislike? 

The Duke, with all his mighty cares, did not cease for a moment 
to love his wife with the liveliest passion of romance, and the sincerity of 
principle. 1 She fully reciprocated his devotion both by language and 
deeds. If she gave attention to the weighty affairs of state, it was natural 
that her womanly qualities should be lessened. She could not always be 
the lover, the friend, the wife and the mother. The sterner qualities of her 
nature were made active by the necessities of her heart and mind. It ma}^ 
be stated, too, as a beautiful fact, that while these qualities were seen by 
others, they did not lessen the love of her husband, although his party 
prejudices were adverse to her views. She understood political parties, 
and home statesmanship better than her husband. He endeavored to 
serve the nation without respect to parties as he was constantly subjected 
to the instructions of government. He had but little time to study the 
machinery of government. He was satisfied with its shape and operation. 
He looked for pleasure in his orders, and was satisfied to dwell more on 
its external relations than on the nice distinctions of its varying admin- 



devoted to John, Duke of Marlborough." 
When the Duchess of Buckingham lost 
her son, and liking public parades, she 
applied for the car which conveyed the 
remains of Marlborough to the tomb, the 
Duchess replied with feeling, — " It carried 
my Lord Marlborough, it shall never carry 
any other." — Thomson^ s Memoirs^ Vol. ii, 
pp. 373, 378. 

1 In the hurry of military movements, in 
the excitement of unparalleled triumphs, 
his heart was ever with her. *' I am heart 
and soul yours," was his constant expres- 
sion. " I can have no happiness till I am 
quiet with you." " I cannot live away from 
you." Again, he beautifully concludes 
one letter: — "Put your -trust in God as 
I do, and be assured that I think I can't 
be unhappy as long as you are kind." 
"Pray believe me," he says, writing in 
1705, immediately after the battle of Rami- 
lies, "when I assure you that I love you 



more than I can express." — ThomsorCs 
Memoirs,Y OL. i, p. 173. 

After leaving England for the Hague, the 
Duchess wrote to her husband, offering to 
join him, to share in the anxieties and even 
in the dangers, to which he was exposed. 
His reply was full of affection. He says, — 
" Your letter of the loth April came to 
me but this minute, (May 5.) My Lord 
Treasurer's letter, in which it was enclosed, 
by some mistake was sent to Amsterdam. I 
would not for anything in my power it had 
been lost; for it is so very kind, that I 
would in return lose a thousand lives, if I 
had them, to make you happy." * * ♦ 
" It will be a great pleasure to me to have 
it in my power to read this dear, dear 
letter often, and that it may be found in my 
strong box when I am dead. I do this 
minute love you better than I ever did in 
my life before." 



496 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

istration. His want of confidence in party was proof that he did 
not fully comprehend the nature of progress. The fact that he was com- 
pelled to see the difference between the Whig and Tory parties by their 
conduct towards himself; to leave the latter and to trust the former, was a 
practical lesson he was slow to learn and unlikely to forget. He opened his 
e^-es to see the foresight and wisdom of his wife confirmed. He began to 
sympathize with her in her party views, and to see that there was no public 
safety but in the democracy of the nation. He was made a democrat by 
the realities of experience. He found the living principle upon which gov- 
ernment depends. That he was more or less controlled by his wife before 
he ceased to be a Tory there can be no doubt. That she saw the true con- 
dition of the country when threatened by revolution, though ignorant as to 
the remedy, no one could question. That she should exert her influence 
over Princess Anne to leave her father, when deserted b}^ others, was an 
event to be expected. Her husband well understood the character and 
position of James, and if he did not promptly cooperate to save him 
from disgrace, it was because he did not clearly see the means of success. 
He saw, too, the necessity of relief to the nation, and the common report 
that he, as well as the Princess, was constantly advised by the Duchess, 
was not without good foundation. That he preferred patriotism to a false 
loyalt}', and duty to the nation in preference to mistaken gratitude to a 
perjured king, was much to his honor. 

When Anne became Queen, the crown added nothing to her mind ; and 
w^hen the Duchess began to serve the Queen, instead of her friend, Mrs. 
Morley, her mental powers were no less. It has been remarked, that " The 
Duchess of Marlborough's dismissal from Anne's favor may be said to have 
commenced, in reality, when that Princess ascended the throne of England. 
The favorite was now wholly devoted to Whig principles ; Anne w^as 
always, in her heart, a Tory. Lady Marlborough could ill brook opposi- 
tion from one whose actions she had for years guided, and who had 
scarcely dared to move except at her bidding." ^ Daring against arbitrary 
power, and daring against superior ability and knowledge — are very difler- 
ent acts. A bitter assailant of the Duchess,^ says, — '^Flattery, madam, is 
what you never happened to be accused of, nor of temporizing with the 
humors of your royal patroness. The peccadillos you have been supposed 
answerable for, are of quite a contrary class — of playing the tjTant with 
your sovereign, of insisting on your own will in opposition to hers, and of 
carrying your own points with a high hand, almost whether she would or 
not." ^ Such language might be applicable to persons of equal ability, of 



1 Thomson's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 312. 3 There is much truth in the language of 

2 "Other Side of the Question," p. 11. Mrs. Thomson, respecting a peculiarity of 



THE REIGN OF ANNE. » 497 

the same station, or of different stations. But a distinction should be 
made between the counsel of knowledge and the will of ignorance. 

It is a base insinuation of Swift, when speaking of Godolphin, gravely 
to adopt a slander of the infamous Mrs. Manly. He saj^s, — " His alli- 
ance with the Marlborough familj^, and his passion for the Duchess, were 
the cords which dragged him into a party which he naturally disliked, 
Avhose leaders he personally hated, as they did him." Lord Marlborough 
was not disposed to question the motives of others, when approached with 
friendly assurances. The Duchess was slow to believe a friend who had 
ever proved himself capable of change. This was well illustrated when 
her husband was complimented by William, when he appointed him gov- 
ernor of the young Duke of Gloucester. He received the distinction with 
evident pleasure, but she could not forget that both had suffered indigni- 
ties from the hand now ready to honor them. 

As extreme measures generallj- destroy themselves, compromise becomes * 
the first remed}^ A middle part}^, led hy Robert Harley,^ significantly 
called " trimmers," " gradually and silently arose," says an intelligent 
writer, " and, fostered by circumstances, attained a powerful ascendenc3\" 
With such a leader, no policy but that of intrigue could be expected, and 
with an unprincipled faction, no results but those of injustice and dis- 
grace were possible. This break from the Tor}- party was doubtless caused 
by a discerning ambition to escape from error and its responsibilities. A 
leading partisan, confident in his doubts, is sure to have a respectable 
number of followers. All parties, however, when they have reached 
the extreme limits of wrong and error, are generally permitted b}' Pj-ovi- 
dence to return to the right with avowed motives that pride disguises, and 
charity concedes. 

MEASURES AND PARTY FEATURES OF THE REIGN OF ANNE. 

The questions particularly^ discussed during the reign of Queen Anne 



her own sex. She says, — " There is always says, — "His humor was never to deal 
something' in female altercations that is clearly, nor openly, but always with re- 
ludicrous as well as painful. Few women serve, if not dissimulation, or rather simu- 
know how and where to stay the course of lation, and to love tricks, even where not 
anger; when it once begins to flow, every necessary, but from an inward satisfaction, 
charm, every grace so fondly prized by the he took in applauding his own cunning. ^ 
sex is obliterated, when retort follows any man was under the necessity of being; 
retort, and retaliation grows vigorous; and a Jcnave, he was." — Diary, Ms. p. 16. 
dignity, to assert which the fair sex is Pope says of him, he was "above all pain, 
oftentimes so valiant, takes its departure all anger, and all pride." This made him 
immediately we become vociferous in its incapable of sense, indignation and self- 
defence." — Memoirs J Duchess of Marlhor- respect. A no-party man, as he would haya- 
ough, Vol. i, p. 192. preferred to make Steele,. 
1 Iq speaking of Harley, Lord Cowper 
32 



498 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

were most important to England, and to humanity. The succession to the 
thi'one, the divine right of Kings, Papacy, and Protestantism, — indeed, the 
great issues of the Revohition were reviewed and considered under the 
peculiar circumstances of threatened danger abroad, and of a singular 
mixture of strength and weakness, and of division and subdivision at 
home. Her reign was marked by extreme violence of part}'. This was 
the natui'al result of official weakness. The nervous Queen was considered 
as mere i^roperty, " which was to be engrossed, divided, or transferred, as 
suited best with the mercenary views of those state-brokers who had the 
privilege of dividing the spoil." ^ When state authority is feeble, the ship 
of state, like that of the mariner without a wind after a storm, is thrown 
from side to side and made to flounder, there being no outward nor inward 
force to impel her forward on her way. The Queen with no impelling power 
but that of party prejudice, with a husband regarded as nothing above " an 
obliging c^'pher," and with no discriminating judgment above sentiment or 
passion, allowed herself to be alternately swayed by the hopes and falla- 
cies of the Tories, who cared for nothing but party, and by her own fears 
•when warned by experience that she was wrong, and the Whigs were 
right.^ 

In one thing, all parties were agreed, and that was hostilit}" to France. 
War was regarded an inevitable condition of national safety, — and 3'et its 
glorious successes served onl}- to multipl}' obstacles to peace, or to instigate 
new measures of injustice. Tlie victories of Marlborough were celebrated 
b}' all, and though England in consequence of them, was first made the 
leading power of Europe, 3-et the part}- advisers of the Queen were incapa- 
ble of comprehending the true interests of the government, or of apprecia- 
ting the source either of its growing strength, or the means of perpetuating 
it. Marlborough, "the greatest of generals and the greatest of ministers,'* 
exhausted the energies of genius and the sources of knowledge in his 
extraordinar}' endeavors to serve the cause of nations, in their special and 
universal rights and interests, having at the same time to bow to the humilia- 
ting weaknesses of royalty, and still to acknowledge the binding obligations 
of the Tory party. His lot was indeed a difficult one. He had one of the 
weakest and most obstinate of women to influence him by the aids of roy- 



1 Cunningham, b. ix, p. 77. Thomson's them ; and I am thoroughly convinced 
"Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 81. of the mahce and insolence of others that 

2 In a note to the Duchess (1706) the you have been always speaking against." 
Queen says, — " I believe, dear Mrs. Free- — Coxe's Memoirs, Vor.. i, p. 376. The 
man, we shall not disagree as we have for- Whigs had opposed the proposal to invite to 
nerly done; for I am sensible of the ser- the kingdom the electress Sophia,— a propo- 
vices those people have done me, that you sition which had given great offence to the 
iiave a good opinion of, and will countenance Queen. 



THE REIGN OF ANNE. 499 

alty and prejudices of party in the person of the Queen. In the person of 
his wife, he had a bright and beautiful example of loveliness combined with 
the spirit of intelligence, truth and candor. She saw with clearness the 
character of men, and she was a wise counsellor in the difficult business of 
appointments to office. He loved her more than he loved his life. With 
her, he was willing to give up the world ; without her, the world was noth- 
to him. His loyalt}^ to the crown, and his devotion to the Church, — had 
no rival sentiment but that of conjugal love. Though constantly drawn 
away from domestic scenes, by his deep sense of public duty, his heart 
knew no home but in the affections of his beloved wife. More than an}', 
her influence was supreme. It was the influence of woman as woman. If 
a Whig statesman had uttered the same opinions in the same language, 
they would probabl}^ have been unheeded. Her troubles grieved him more 
than his own, her diff'erences perplexed him more than the dangers of war, 
or the inconsistencies of state. Such a wife can have no better defence 
than in such conduct of such a husband. 

When he was compelled to doubt the wisdom and the policy of the Tory 
part}^, by what he saw and by the apt instructions of the Duchess ; and to 
see that the enemies of his countr}^ rejoiced in Tory successes, — he was 
tempted to believe that extremes were only to be avoided, and that a 
middle course was the wisest. When forced to realize the uncertainties 
and absurdities of compromise, in violation of principle, he was willing to 
be persuaded that all parties were equally wrong and false. He looked to 
roj'alt}^ for a principle, to government without a policy for a guide, — and 
saw safet}^ only in the no party doctrine, or in the unproductive desert of neu- 
trality. He did not seem to understand, to use the language of Prof. Smyth, 
— " that in a mixed and free government like that of England, all questions 
that either occupy or deserve to occupy attention have a reference either to 
the prerogative of the crown or privileges of the people, to religious tolera- 
tion, to mild or harsh government, to peace and war, or finally, to some of 
the more important subjects of political economy ; that suspense in all 
these cases is impossible ; that honest men, therefore, vote with those who 
best promote such systems and principles as the}' approve ; that in this 
manner are disposed of, and ranged on different sides, the men of political 
integrity s and that the remainder are those who are in the habit of think- 
ing all questions matters of indiflTerence, and of joining the men or the 
ministers who are most likely to furnish their relations or themselves with 
emoluments and offices ; but that such men are, and always have been, the 
proper objects of the suspicion and contempt, not only of the public, but 
of the very House itself, and it is impossible to suppose that they can be 
necessary to the stability of any good government, — certainly not in any 
greater number than the infirmity of human nature will always produce 
them, after every possible political expedient and contrivance has been 



500 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

resorted to, for the purpose of diminishing their number and weakening 
their efficiency." ^ 

It was not until Marlborough saw that royalty could be diverted from 
duty by ordinary servants, that favorites of the sovereign could become 
the dispensers of the royal patronage, even including counsellors of the 
state, and at the sacrifice of one, who, of all in the world, he loved best, 
that he was willing openly to trust the Whigs, and distrust the Tories, 
He soon found that a mixed policy presented no system of action, and 
yielded no definite results. That it led to unscrupulous intrigues for place 
of weak and unprincipled men, who, having been opponents, had joined in 
a doubtful alliance, and with narrow and selfish purposes. He began to 
question himself whether the standard of loyalty was to be found in the 
constitution itself, or in the person of its chief servant. iThe Queen could 
not understand the meaning or the safety of the prerogatives of the crowa 
but in the dogmas of the Church or the Tory party, and she was piously 
willing to indulge in personal and party resentments to the exclusion of 
wise counsel proff"ered by able and honest statesmen, because they were 
"Whigs. ^ She manifested much alarm when Marlborough and Godolphin 
expressed a desire to retire fi'om official position. The same feeling was 
expressed on the possibility of losing her dear friend, Mrs. Freeman, — but 
there was no change too absurd to be reconciled in her philosophy. She 
could not see the difference between sentiment and opinion. She could see 
no good reason why her opinion, without knowledge, was not as safe as any 
other opinion formed in accordance with knowledge. She was made to 
believe that she was Queen only when the Tories were in power, and that 
the nation was safe onl}- when the Whigs were out of power. With her, 
loj-alty was Toryism, and Tor3'ism the government. A Whig in official 
position was deemed an obstacle to government, and the policy advised by 
the Whig party an inevitable evil to be borne but not to be sanctioned. She 
found herself compelled often to participate in public measures which she 
could neither withdraw nor direct, and she was often congi'atulated upon 
results, which were glorious to the nation, but which were achieved by a 
policy of her political opponents. The diversity of advice given by party 
friends embarrassed her, — for when the Tories were the strongest in power, 
they were most divided in counsel. This is ever the party condition of 
ignorance and error. 

Nothing, certainly, was left undone by Mrs. Freeman to make Mrs. 
Morley a Whig, and no fact in history is deemed more certain, — that, she 



1 Modern History, p. 413 life had preserved the Tory government for 

2 Hallam says,— " It is impossible to a few years, every vestige of the toleration 
doubt for an instant, that if the Queen's would have been effaced. ' 



THE REIGN OF ANNE. 501 

did not succeed. At one period both parties were balanced, and the court 
had its own way. To use a physical illustration, this was like a partial 
vacuum, and it was subject to irregular and external forces. 

By rejecting the counsel of party men, the Duke soon found that both 
parties became his enemies. Nothing but hard and bitter experience led 
him to the conclusion that whatever special power he could exert with com- 
manding and irresistible influence, he could not detach himself, nor the 
Armies of the Allies from the government to which he was made account- 
able, nor could he sever the government itself from the parties which sur- 
rounded it. Each member of the Alliance had its own peculiar difficulties 
at home, and all, alike, were subject to the constant surveillance and disci- 
pline of party. No character in the world, finds it so difficult to do strict 
justice to a nation, to the people who pay taxes, to the soldier who is con- 
stantly exposed to danger and personal discomfort, to the cause of religion 
and humanity, which embraces most that makes up the blessings of home 
and of societ}', — as the commander of an army. He is placed in conflict 
with the motives of men of all classes, parties and conditions. He is 
expected to please alike the good man who asks peace, and the ambitious 
and resentful man who demands war. He is expected to satisfy the selfish 
man who seeks place, the corrupt man who sees no good but in public con- 
tracts, and the miserable wretch who gloats in blood-shed and robber}-. 
Each political party is inclined to claim him as its own, if he be success- 
ful in the battle field, but if he fails he is soon disowned bj^ all parties. It 
matters not who it is, or what it is, that enables him to succeed, or causes 
him to fail, — he becomes either the unclisparaged subject of glorj-, or the 
victim of unmitigated disgrace. Manly courage does not save him ; the 
want of soldiers, ammunition, ordinance, or rations, is counted his misfor- 
tune, and not sufficient grounds for apology- ; the blunders of his official 
superiors and the unforeseen circumstances of his time and position ; the 
vile intrigues of ambitious men, or of a desperate and revolutionary 
party, designed to defeat his plans, or to supplant his command, — are all 
accounted his ill-luck, or blunders by construction. Though history may 
justly record him a patriotic hero, j-et the generation of his time is often 
found ready to deny him even common justice or decency. 

No commander ever realized these truths to a greater degree than the 
Great Duke of Marlborough. Royalty not only did not save him, — but 
meanly and ungratefully signed and sealed his disgrace.^ The Tory party 



1 On malicious charges which proved to nation, the Duke threw it into the fire, dis- 

be false, and without waiting for investiga- missed him from all his employments." In 

tion, the Queen, January 1, 1712, " in a September of the same year, on the death 

note written with her own hand, which is of Lord Godolphin, the Duke and the 

not extant, because, in a transport of indig- Duchess left England, to reside abroad 



502 HISTOKY OF DEMOCRACY. 

was unwilling to save him, because it could not aid or use him politically. 
It was true to its natural instincts and conventional dogma. It abhors all 
crrowth it cannot limit, and denounces all skill it cannot direct. It was willins: 
to acquire strength b}' attempts at assassination, and by appeals to frenzied 
passions.^ His own church could not help him, for it was unable, alone, to 
take care of itself. Though the Allies could not do without him, yet, witli 
the aid of all his victories they had but little power either to shape their 
own ends, or to shield him from slander. Greatness was limited and par- 
alyzed by the want of means ; and royalty, weakness and error were help- 
less for the want of knowledge and integrity. From a reverential loyalty, 
the Duke was gradually led to see that royalty was nothing without intelli- 
gence and honest counsel. From an abiding confidence in the Tory party 
he was by degrees enabled to see its fallacies, to doubt its motives and 
ability, and to detest its policy. It had abandoned the Alliance, it had 
opposed supplies, it had refused thanks for services, it had favored a dis- 
creditable peace, it had insulted the Queen, it had opposed Godolphin and 
himself, it had reconstructed the House of Lords for mere party purposes, — •* 
and in its var3'ing course, had proved not only false to itself and to the 
Church, but to its opponents and to the country. "With comprehensive 
view^s of military power, he was taught by experience, that battles were 
but slaughter, and victories crimes, — if not promptly used to promote the 
good of society and the peace of nations. Ph3'sical strength is alwa3's 
mostly in the governed, and the military is but an occasional arm to aid 
civil authorit}'. With narrow and preconceived notions that the strength of 
a government depended more on the prerogatives of the crown, than on 
the eternal principles of justice and freedom, he opposed with uniform 
firmness, and even occasional bitterness, the only party that was able 



until better times should return. The greater fortune than he wanted, and that a 

Queen coolly alluded to the event by man who had had such success, with such 

remarking to the Duchess of Hamilton : an estate, would be of more use to any court 

"The Duke of Marlborough has done than they could be to him; that I would 

wisely to go abroad." She condescended live civilly with them, if they were so to 

however, to express her hopes that he would me, but Avould never put it into the power of 

be well received in foreign parts. They any King to use me ill. He was entirely 

did not return until after the Queen's death, of tliis opinion, and determined to quit all, 

They were then received by distinguished and serve them only when he could act 

marks of attention, and he was honored by honestly and do his country service at 

offers of place. These were declined. In the same time." — Coxe's Memoirs, Vol. hi, 

regard to such offers the Duchess says, — p. 280. Thomson's 3IemoirSj Vol. ii, p. 

** I begged the Duke of Marlborough upon 262. 

my knees, that he would never accept any i Guiscard's attempt to assassinate Har- 

employment. I said, everybody that liked ley, revived Harley's declining popularity, 

the Revolution and the security of the law, See Coze's Memoirs j Vol. hi, p. 196. 
had a great esteem for him, that he had a. 



THE REIGN OF ANNE. 503 

either to help him, or to save him. It was only necessary that he should 
review what he had attempted to do, and omitted to do ; what he had done, 
and by whose aid ; what he had not done, and by whose treachery, — to dis- 
cover that there was but one power sufficient in itself to save the nation, 
and that was the statesmanship of democracy. When once persuaded of 
this great truth, he did not hesitate to disavow all respect for the Tory 
party, and to declare his confidence in the democratic. The Tories had 
disgusted him.^ He lived to find that most of the disappointments and 
calamities of Queen Anne were attributable either to her obstinacy or 
weakness, to the Tory party or its tools. He lived to hear the cry of the 
people on the return of the Whigs to power, on his way to St. James, — 
" Long live King George, long live the Duke of Marlborough ! " ^ 

It was an interesting feature of Anne's reign, that Harle}^ should intro- 
duce a friend to be his rival and enemy, and that both should be the means 
of illustrating the fate of renegade partisans, and the absurd fallacy of 
political coalitions. Harley had but a small chance of success opposed by 
such a powerful competitor as Bolingbroke, and he richly deserved to lose 
the influence of the Queen by the very means he employed to acquire it, — 
the cunning agency of Mrs. Masham. Harle}^, with ambitious motives, 
and with but little honest}^, — was ready for any scheme that promised per- 
sonal promotion, whether it was perfidy to the Queen, to the Whig cabinet, 
or to the Tory party. He hated most the obstacles in his way which ho 
could not surmount. His old friend, of vastl}^ superior abilit}', though 
possessing probably but little more honest}', Bolingbroke, stood in his path 
to turn him as he pleased. Both were well qualified to conduct the circui- 
tous management of their own party, to league with the enemy of their 
countr}',^ to perpetuate the rule of the Stuart race, to subvert the constitu- 
tion, and to substitute the Tory party in place of the government. Harley 



1 In a letter to his wife, May 5, 1710, the tinue with the army, which I suppose is, 
Duke writes, — "I do not doubt of the Whigs and will be approved by the Whigs; for I 
considering very well wliat resolutions it am resolved of doing nothing but in con- 
may be proper to take in this, I think, dis- cert with them. I detest Mr. Harley ; but 
mal conjuncture. You may be assured, and I think I have lived long enough in the 
pray assure Lord Somers, Lord Sunder- world to be able to distinguish between 
land, and whom they shall think proper, reason and faction." — Coxe's 3Iemoirs,YoL,. 
that I am determined to do just as they iii, pp. 68, 142. 

would have me, not only now, but in all 2 When the Duke tendered through Lord 
the actions of my life." * * * "Of all Sunderland, the resignation of his em- 
things the Whigs must be sure to be of one ployments, the King, declared that " the 
mind,andthen all things, sooner or later,must Duke's retirement from office would excite 
come right." Again, in October, he writes, as much pain as if a dagger should be 

<*The States, the Emperor, and the plunged in his bosom." 

fclector, all three have engaged me to con- 3 Louis. 



504 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

ended his career b}' abusing his sovereign in her last hours. Bolingbroke, 
with all his plans and precautions to retain power, was unexpectedly led iu 
an instant, to behold all his confident expectations and hopes suddenly 
blasted, and without a single chance of recovery. He had counted the 
Tory party omnipotent, and beyond all danger.^ In his deep disappoint- 
ment and hopeless despondency, he was led to exclaim, — " The grief of 
my soul is this : I see plainly that the Tory party is gone." He had no 
words for his country, knowing that it would soon be in the safe keeping 
of the Democrac}' — which he had both maligned and betrayed. 

The representative of royalt}^, Queen Anne, — though associated with 
greatness, deliberatel}^ rejected its aids, ignored its presence and influence, 
and often seemed to be either ignorant, or indifferent to its achievements 
and glories. She was conscious only of a nominal power, which failed 
when most wanted ; of a friendship that had to be false when most needed ; 
and of a judgment made impracticable with the most pains.^ She was 
happy and fortunate in most of her opportunities, and in some of her acts 
when constrained b}^ good counsel, and b}' circumstances which were inevi- 
table. She was unhapp}- and unfortunate in her passions and prejudices, 
and in the choice of her friends and advisers. She could not comprehend 
the difference between prejudice and judgment, or between statesmanship 
end party. She could not distinguish between the party of arbitrary 
power and the party of the constitution, — and it was her lot to live without 
being able to appreciate the privileges of ro3'alt3', or to understand that no 
throne is permanentl}' safe unless surrounded by the atmosphere of 
democrac}'. 

She breathed her last in the presence of partisans who had deceived both 
her and themselves, and whose differences did not yield even in the 
presence of death, and whose untimely wrangles were permitted to add to 
its agonies and terrors. 

In the death of Anne, the Stuart line was ended, and there was a perma- 
nent gain to the cause of freedom in England. In her reign the Tory 
party, by acquired strength, increased its difficulties, and lost its vigor ; 
and royalt}', by new and favored opportunities, lessened its power and 
endangered its prestige. Thus royalty in a woman, making her Queen, 
adds nothing to her ability to bless a nation, any more than it does in man 
— making him King. " Never," wrote Dr. Arbuthnot to Dean Swift, " was 



1 Tlie Tories claimed that there were King "William III., the throne was occupied 
througliout the Kingdom, eight Tories to by a foolish and ignorant woman, whose 
one Whig. They probably liad more than love for the clergy would, in a more super- 
two to one. stitious age, have led to dangerous results." 

2 Of the Queen, Buckle speaks decidedly. —Ilisi. of Civ. in Eng.^ Vol. i, p. 301. 
He says, — "After the death of our great 



THE REIGN OF ANNE. 505 

sleep more welcome to a wear}" traveller than death to the Queen. It was 
frequently her lot, whilst worn with bodily suffering, to be an agitated and 
helpless witness of the bitter altercations of the Lord Treasurer Harley 
and of her Secretary of Foreign Affairs. It was her office, good-naturedly 
to check the sneers of the former, and to soothe the indignant spirit of 
Bolingbroke. In their mutual altercations, they addressed to each other 
such language as only cabinet ministers could use with impunit}^" ^ Only 
three daj's before the death of the queen, Harley was removed from the 
privj' council, and for reasons stated by herself, viz : " His want of truth, 
his want of punctuality, ' the bad manners, indecency, and disrespect,' with 
which he treated her." ^ 

In these brief and imperfect sketches it is not intended so much to give 
the political history of England as to afford a general summary of leading 
events with a view to show what they teach and the great truths they estab- 
lish. A more extended reading of different and reliable authors, both of 
men and measures, would enable the reader to appreciate their purpose, 
w^hich is, to illustrate the principles of political progress. To have a clear 
conception of the varied and confused reign of Anne, it is necessary so 
to classifj^ the leading events that they may be studied as so many 
causes resolved into few, or man}-, and thus be able to trace them in 
a line to their legitimate results. In such an analj'sis are to be found, 
alwa3's, the character of the people at home, connected with established 
institutions, habits and customs, their industry, their commerce, their 
wants and their wealth. These conditions pervade societ}' — independently 
of government and of party. In all organizations, whether for political 
or religious purposes, motives are to be found connected with private inter- 
ests and personal preferences. Patriotism is a sentiment superadded to 



1 Swift's Correspondence, Yol. xv, p. 77. on the Whigs, from the nature of the eon- 

2 Thomson's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 249. test in which they were engaged." * * * 

3 Prof. Smyth says, " that it will require He alludes "to the manner in which the 
more than ordinary attention to understand executive power can be restrained, and 
the interior politics of this reign. The even controlled, by machinery not a^'o^<?c<fZy 
Whig and Tory Parties, though at a great provided by the constitution for the pur- 
distance from each other at their extreme pose. For instance, Queen Anne carried 
points, were almost connected with each on the war against France when neither her 
other by intermediate trimmers and shuff- wishes nor her opinions were favorable to its 
lers of every description. Men of very continuance. The Whig administration re- 
discordant principles were often mixed up mained in power long after they had 
in the same cabinet. The queen was a become disagreeable to her ; and Marlbor- 

•decided Tory, and was always anxious ough was her general, and even the arbiter 

to collect, or retain, as many Tories of her councils at the conferences for peace, 

around her as possible. Marlborough and when neither he nor his Duchess any longer 

Godolphin were originally Tories, but were possessed her favor." — Modern History, ^^, 

obliged gradually to depend more and more 414, 428. 



506 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

all that is narrow and selfish, and comprehends the beautiful truth that 
Tvhat is really good for one is good for all. The love of country is the 
ultimate of human interests, and of human happiness. 

GEORGE THE FIRST. 

The incapacit}^ of Anne to inaugurate new measures, or rather to exe- 
cute old ones ; her disposition to exalt party above the government, and 
politicians above statesmen, gave a period of rest to the nation that was 
important to its settlement and prosperity. The great truths of the Revo- 
lution had taken deep root in the minds and hearts of the people, and " the 
hereditary sceptre of a great and powerful empire passed from the hands 
of the ancient d3'nasty, without one act of violence or one word of opposi- 
tion. The new d3masty, to which the mere declaration of the people had 
transferred it, succeeded as quietly as if they had been the immediate 
descendants of a long line of British Kings." ^ 

The Tories were, by far, the most numerous, but their party had been 
distracted b}^ petty factions, and paralyzed by its dishonest schemes and 
impracticable measures. The leaders of the party were disappointed, 
and the unity of party w^as broken. A large majority of the land-holders adhered 
to this part}', for it favored hereditary rights and special privileges. To 
some degree the feudal feeling survived feudalism, and the descendants of 
feudal lords indulged in a personal pride in that which had ceased to be an 
organized power. The clerg}' were Tories, by education, and the landlords 
and tenantr}^ were so identified with similar interests, and influenced by 
similar teachings, that most political questions were discussed and decided 
by their rectors, and made to appear as binding as the apostles' creed. 
This was true of the smaller towns, where the people seldom met for dis- 
cussion, and as seldom had access to political reading. In large cities the 
Whigs had the ascendenc}^^ The more extended relations of commerce 



1 This is the language of Cooke. He hands of his sacred majesty King James," 
doubtless overlooked the fact recorded, that etc. — Pari. Deh., Vol. vii, p. 3. 
at Oxford, the Mayor received a letter 2 The French envoy, D'Iberville, pro- 
brought by a person in a bachelor's gown, fessing to render an account to his court of 
requiring him to proclaim the Pretender, the state of parties in England during this 
In this letter were these expressions : — year, describes the Whigs as a thoroughly 
"This is to warn you, if you should receive united party, boasting the best purses, the 
an order to proclaim Hanover, not to com- best swords, the most able heads, and the 
ply with it, for the hand of God is now at handsomest women. This party also he 
work to set things upon a right foot, and in describes as the more rich in money and 
a few days you will see wonderful changes ; paper, the Tories in land. — Hist, of Party, 
which if you are wise enough to foresee, Vol. ii, p. 5. 
you will obtain grace and favor from the 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 507 

and manufactures favored mental culture and activity, — and the objects of 
science, the practical uses of knowledge, and the ends of government, — 
became subjects of individual interest, and of public importance. Educa- 
tion was seen to be a necessity, and thinking a duty. The wars, from 
which England had just emerged, — had burdened the industry of the nation, 
and the changes of property had made great wealth for some, but poverty 
for the masses. The rich had increased their wealth, the poor their 
poverty. 

George Lewis, under the title of George the First, ascended the throne, 
on the death of Queen Anne, Aug. 1, 1714.^ He was born at the city of 
Hanover on the 28th of May, 1660, and was aged fifty-four years when 
proclaimed King. He was the eldest son of Ernest Augustus, Elector of 
Hanover, and Sophia Stuart,^' daughter of Frederic, the Elector Palatine, 
and grand-daughter of James the First, of England. 

He w^as educated with care, but more with reference to a military life 
than to the civil duties of a throne. Such was his taste, and it was claimed 
that he distinguished himself in the field. In 1681, he visited England as 
a suitor for the hand of the Princess Anne, but without success. He was 
secretly opposed b}^ William, Prince of Orange. In 1682 he married his 
cousin Sophia Dorothea. He was an ordinary man without elegance, she 
was a beautiful and fascinating girl of sixteen. Their tastes were uncon- 
genial, and their preferences soon diverged from conjugal love to mutual 
indifference and dislike. They sought happiness in opposite directions, 
and with equal disregard of principle, propriety and decency. He had his 
mistresses, she her gallants. Though blessed with two children, they 
derived no exaltation, or harmonj^, from parental affection. 

These relations of alienated affection soon became known to the 
intriguers of the court, and w^ere made use of by cunning and wicked aspir- 
ants for favor, — to secure means of advancement, or of personal revenge. 
She did not hesitate to declare an illicit love, and he made no effort to 
disguise his criminal indulgences. It was believed by some that he was 
the more guilty of the two, and yet he became the arbiter of her fate, and 



1 At the peace of Rastadt Louis XIV. on the shoulders of a beautiful woman ; 

was compelled to recognize the electoral and the passage of the Act of Succession 

dignity in the house of Brunswick -Lunen- by the British Parliament was in a great 

berg, as well as the right of the elector of measure the result of the long-continued, 

Hanover to the succession to the British skilful, and masterly intrigues which, 

throne. — Dr. Smucker's History of the Four during the progress of many years, she 

Georges, p. 23. carried on with the leading minds in the 

^ Sophia was a woman of superior talent, British Government. — Dr. Smucker's Hist, 

and of great energy of character. She had of the Four Georges, p. 24. 
the head of a statesman and philosopher 



5DS HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

inflicted a pnnisliraent upon lier as cruel as it was unjust. A formal separa- 
tion took place on the 28th of October, 1694, and she was condemned 
to imprisonment for life, and was denied the privilege of seeing her 
children.^ 

It was claimed by the friends of George I., that he "had an excellent 
spirit and noble sentiments ; he was more sensible of services than of 
injuries ; courageous, little capable of dissembling or hiding his thoughts.'* 
" M}^ maxim," said he, soon after his arrival in England, " is never to 
abandon m}^ friends, to do justice to all the world, and to fear no man." 
*' To these valuable qualities," the same writer adds,'^ "he joined a great 
application to business, and a sincere desire to render his subjects happj'.'* 
Another eminent writer ,3 who was appointed his first Secretar}^ of State, 
complained that " seditious men endeavored to depreciate his majesty's 
person and family, without considering that his court at Hanover was 
alwaj^s allowed to be one of the politest in Europe, and that before he 
became our King, he was reckoned among the greatest princes in Christen- 
dom." Addison's appreciation of his character, was highly complimentary. 
He said, — " The fickle and unsteady politics of our late British monarchs 
have been the perpetual source of those dissensions and animosities which 
have made the nation unhappy : whereas the constant and unshaken temper 
of his present majest3^ must have a natural tendency to the peace of his 
government, and the unanimity of the people." ^ With no disposition to 
disparage the testimon}' of Addison, it is but proper that some allowance 
should be made in view of liis official position, and that other writers of the 
same partj^ should be consulted. A very intelligent and candid historian, 
of the present centurj-,^ does not hesitate to sa}^, that " George upon the 
throne of England was still only the Elector of Hanover ; he was ignorant 
of the language, he hated the habits, he was even impatient of the accla- 
mations of his new subjects. Lazy and inactive, and therefore lowly 
sensual, even in his pleasures, the ordinary duties of his station were to 
him intolerably wearisome ; « his disregard of splendor, and his utter ignor- 



1 The unfortunate Sophia Dorothen., died 2 Tindall. 
at the Castle of Ahlden, after a tedious ^ Addison, 
illness, Nov. 2, 1726. Before she expired ^ Freeholder, p. 13. 
she blessed her children, forgave her ene- 5 George Wingrove Cooke, 1838. 
mies and oppressors, and solemnly sum- ^ *' The hostile mob of Tories," sayS Df. 
moned her absent husband, the chief cause Smucker, " satirized his personal qualities, 
of her unjust suffering, as she asserted, to his ignorance of the language of his sub- 
meet her at the judgment bar of God within jects, his heavy stupidity, his fondness for 
a year after her death. The King died saur-kraut and punch, and above all his 
June 11th, 1727 — nearly four months before singular partiality for the detestably ugly, 
her appointed time. — See Br, Smucker's ungraceful, greedy, corpulent, and repulsive 
Four Georges. German women whom he still retained 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 609 

anee of ambition, took from these onerous duties their correspond in o- 
reward ; what wonder, therefore, that he thought little of the honor or 
advantage of a nation he did not understand, and in questions of foreio-n 
policy looked only to the interests of his own electorate." Still, the same 
author continues, " In his private character, although jealous and resentftil, 
this prince was not without benevolence, and, although dull and phlegmatic, 
he was not destitute of ordinary ability, nor, when among those whose 
company he chiefly affected, even of pleasantr}'. A rare instance is re- 
corded of a happy and read}^ repartee — too curious an achievement for 
George I. to be omitted : — At the time of the Scotch rebellion, Bishop 
Atterbur}^, so celebrated as a Jacobite, a scholar, and, as his contempor- 
aries judged, a deist, was detailing to the King, with mau}^ expressions of 
affected sorrow, the progress the rebels had made. "My Lord Bishop," 
interrupted the King, " I fear the rebels as little as 3'ou do Jesus Christ." ^ 
Another writer, of marked abilitj', in a recent publication, says, — " The 
only thing recorded either of the sa^'ings or doings of George I. during his 
whole life, which reflects au}^ credit upon him, and deserves to be handed 
down with honor to posterit}^, is a remark which he made to a German 
nobleman, who congratulated him on being the sovereign at once of two 
such glorious kingdoms as England and Hanover. He replied : " Rather 
congratulate me on having such a subject as Newton in the one, and 
Leibnitz in the other." Yet it is doubtful whether the King deserved the 
credit of originality in making this remark : it was probably the echo of 
some graceful compliment paid him b}' one of his courtiers." 2 

The uncertainties of George I. commenced with his great grandfather, 
William, Duke of Brunswick-Lunenberg, who had seven sons. The family 
not having sufficient means to sustain them all in a manner becomino- their 
position, and future expectations, — they determined b}' lot which should be 
the representative of the blood. George, the sixth son, was the lucky man 
to be distinguished as the grandfather of George I. Had the Electress So- 
phia been more careful of herself and lived two months longer, she would 
have been entitled to receive the crown. Had the Dukes of Somerset and 



around him as his mistresses." * * * Ireland, Baroness of Brentford and Count- 

*' Madame Keilmansegge was described as ess of Darlington in England. Theillegiti- 

being a mountain of fat, having two acres mate daughter of the King by the Duchess 

of cheeks, which were thickly covered with of Kendall, Melusina de Shulenburg was 

rouge. The appalling height of Madame also created Baroness of Aldborough and 

Shulemberg was described as being the Countess of Walsingham. — Smucker's Four 

chief charm which won for her the King's Georges, pp. 43, 74. 

favor." One of his first acts, on his return l History of Party, Vol. 11, p. 19. 

from a visit to Hanover, was to elevate his 2 The Four Georges, by Dr. Smucker, 

favorite mistress Keilmansegge to the peer- p. 83. 

age, — making her Countess of Leinster in 



510 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



Argyle failed to attend the council just preceding the death of Queen Anne, 
who could have insured the succession to the house of Hanover?^ and is it 
likclv that Bolingbroke would have had occasion so deepl}^ to lament the 
death of his part}? It has not been regarded a singular opinion, that the 
CFOwn would have been retained b}" the Stuarts but for the statesmanship 
of Robert Walpole."^ But such incidents connected with opinions are more 
curious than instructive. Providence leads, and feeble man is but a follower. 
Although it was well known, at an earl}^ period, that the crown 
prince was a Whig, and gave no countenance whatever to Tories, still, they 
were not without hope and flocked about the King on his arrival in England, 
and with ardent manifestations of loyalty. They proposed to vote him a 
revenue beyond that enjoyed hy the late queen,^ but as the}" failed to do 
this and saw but little encouragement that they were to be trusted, they 
soon demonstrated b}" their language and acts that their loyalty was only 
devotion to part}-. They were fully understood by the King, and the 
Whigs, and during the reign of George I. part}^ spirit prevailed to a fearful 
extent. For a time party expedients appeared to constitute the political 
econom}' of the nation. It was at this period when Addison said, what has 
been quoted in another place, — " Our children are initiated into factions 
before they know their right hand from their left. They no sooner begin 
to speak, but Whig and Tory are the first words they learn. They are 



1 On the 27th of July, 1714— a cabinet 
council was held, at which the treasurer's 
stair was to be demanded from Oxford. 
The scene was most painful. The hatred 
between Oxford and Bolingbroke now broke 
forth in words ; charges, threats and recrim- 
inations, passed between the rivals; and 
the falling minister in his reckless rage 
forgot his duty as a subject, and poured 
forth his abuse even upon h s queen. This 
discussion was ended at half past two in the 
morning by the illness of the queen, who 
retired from the debate declaring she should 
not outlive it, and was carried to bed in a 
state of insensibility. When the council 
again met the queen was sunk into a leth- 
argic state. They adjourned to the next 
day when she was able to be present. The 
debate was renewed, when the conclave was 
disturbed by the abrupt entrance of the 
Dukes of Somerset and Argyle. Boling- 
broke and his friends regarded these in- 
truders with undissembled alarm; but 



Shrewsbury thanked them for their zeal, 
and invited them to take their seats at the 
table. They did so, and while the min- 
isters were yet silent in astonishment, 
assumed the lead in the deliberations. 
Argyle moved that the council should 
address the queen to place the treasurer's 
staff in the hands of Shrewsbury. Boling- 
broke, confused and dismayed, and unwill- 
ing to appear defeated, seconded the pro- 
posal, which was immediately carried. The 
queen declared they could not have named 
a better man. The energy which had thus 
wrested the government of this momentous 
crisis from the hands of the Tories was not 
suffered to relax. — Hist, of Party, Vol. i, 
p. 610. 

2 Dr. Smucker, p. 82. 

3 The Whigs proposed to continue the 
revenue which had been enjoyed by the late 
queen, but the Tories urged its augmenta- 
tion to £1,000,000; the Whigs, however, 
defeated the movement. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 511 

taught, in their infanc}', to hate one-half of the nation ; and contract all the 
virulence and passion of a party, before they come to the use of their reason." 

The gifted and elegant Addison was at a loss how to understand this 
feature of perversity in the nature of man. He earnestly inquires, — " What 
can we think of a party, who would plunge their native country into such 
evils as these ; when the only avowed motive for their proceedings is a 
point of theory, that has been already determined by those who are proper 
judges, in whose determination we have so many j'ears acquiesced ? If the 
calamities of the nation can make no impression upon them, let them at 
least in pity to themselves, their friends, and dependents, forbear all open 
and secret methods of encouraging a rebellion, so destructive, and so un- 
provoked. All human probabilities are against them ; and they cannot 
expect success but from a miraculous interposition of the Almight}-." ^ 

It is not to be wondered that such a man as Addison should express his 
amazement at what he heard and saw, and that he should be unable to 
fathom the motives of able and educated men who were not onl}' read}- but 
forward to give their influence to a party whose leading characteristics 
were to accumulate power, and blindly to ignore principle. lie was a part}' 
man. Not in the narrow sense marked b}^ a selfish ambition. But as a 
philosopher, capable of distinguishing between truth and error. lie saw, 
that while no party could be entirely in the right, it was a duty to be of 
that party not entirelj^ in the wrong. He was a democrat, — made so b}' a 
well balanced mind, by an accurate knowledge of men, and of the principles 
of progress and of their practical applications in life. He looked upon 
government as an institution established solely for the permanent good of 
the governed. He looked upon man as an individual and as a member of 
society — bound by the ever changing obligations of a common humanity. 
He saw clearly that loyalty was an imperative dut}', and that rebellion was 
a crime.^ He looked upon party as an instrument unavoidably necessary 
to the strength and perpetuity of a constitutional government, — and while 
he deplored the excesses and errors of party spirit, he did not forget the 
wide distinction always to be observed, between the government itself and 
the administration of the government ; between patriotism and the right of 
resistance and dislo3'alty, and between loyalty and partisanship. His faith 
in principles was based upon knowledge, and though often tried by the in- 
consistencies of men with whom it was his lot to act, — he never permitted 
it either to be overridden by doubt, or displaced by fear or interest. If he 
had occasion to lament the want of principle in professing democrats, he 
was never left to wander in the mazes and perplexities of cold and cheer- 
less skepticism. Democrats might be changeable, but democrac}^ never. 
If he favored a sovereign b}- language more eulogistic than others could 

1 The Freeholder, pp. 78, 283. 2 ibid, pp. 71-72. 



512 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

approve, it -was because he saw in that sovereign the means of more good, 
and of a surer safety to the nation, — than he could discover either in the 
Pretender, or in the wisdom and professions of his followers. His integrity, 
his extensive acquirements, his accurate discernment of men and manners, his 
uniform spirit of justice, his elegant scholarship, and his consistency as a 
thinker, all helped much to create a popular interest in government, and to 
develop and elucidate the high mission of part3\ He uttered truths which 
will illumine and beautif}^ the democratic record of England forever. It 
was his misfortune to live in an age of immorality, corruption and compara- 
tive ignorance, but it was his great privilege to improve its character, and to 
restore its distorted features.^ It was his lot to act with men who looked for 
dut}' only in success, but it became his higher office to teach them that suc- 
cess could only be found in dut}'. To him Democrac}^ was Christianit}' iii 
public affairs, and he taught no system of Christianity to the exclusion of 
Democrac3\ While he was alive to such teachings of duty, — he could not 
but see the nature and character of his political opponents. In his sketch of 
the Tory Party — the reader will recognize a most accurate likeness. It is 
so life-like, so true and expressive, that no outline will need to be changed, 
no shade retouched, no expression modified. The party is to be found in 
all nations, and all ages alike. It is to-day what it was when Moses Was a 
law giver, and it will remain the same, — so long as humanit}^ has its 
weaknesses, and human progress its necessities. It imposes upon democ- 
rac}' the necessity of action, and gives the needed shades to the beautiful 
and sublime pictures of truth. The great and noble men, who, during all 
time, have honored its ranks by their talents and genius, are to be classed 
as workers, in the mysterious cause of progress, and as agents of that 
Providence which leads and never errs. If men are led to accomplish 
results w^hich they do not intend ; to act from questionable motives, and 
confer unexpected blessings ; or, to plot wrong, and in their plotting, help 
to secure the right ; it is a mission, which, if it does not command the 
thanks of men, is seen to be blessed by Him whose will has raised up 
Herods and Pharaohs,^ but alwa^'s to be overruled by His wisdom. 



1 A single fact cannot fairly illustrate the tious temper, desired :first to confer on the 

state of morals of any period — but the fol- subject with the council. In answer to 

lowing is quite significant. As soon as the this proposal the right reverend prelate 

death of the queen was announced, the exclaimed^ in great excitement : — "Damn it, 

Duke of Orraond, Lord Mareshal, and you know very well that things have not 

Bishop Atterbury, all leading Tories and been concerted enough for that yet; and 

Jacobites, held a secret meeting, at which the that we have not a moment to lose." — Dr. 

bishop earnestly besought Lord Mareshal SmuckeVy p. 90, and Memoirs of Court of 

to go forth immediately, and publicly pro- England, hy J. II. Jesse, Vol. ir, p. 153. 

claim tlie Pretender in form. The Duke of 2 Komans ix : 17. 
Ormond, who was a more prudent and cau- 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 513 

The real strength of the Jacobite rebellion, in 1715, was not seen openl}-, 
and yet it secretly pervaded all classes of societ}^ and hardly any locality 
was without its reasonable organization.^ During the reign of Anne, the 
Tories were far from being Jacobites, though they secretly favored the 
cause of the Pretender. They well knew the power of the old crj", " The 
Church is in danger," but their confidence in management gave them 
confidence in the possession of power, however acquired. They could make 
a Protestant of a Papist, or they could control politically a Papist King, or 
the}^ could create a King who would be utterly indiflferent as to what church 
he favored provided it acknowledged the Tory rule as its life and founda- 
tion. No man better understood the shifts of part}^ than Bolingbroke, and 
no man was more ready to avail himself of favorable changes — whether 
consistent or inconsistent. " A deist, he cared nothing for the Church of 
England," saj^s Cooke, " save as a party engine, and a convenient theme 
for declamation. He laughed to scorn the claim of divine right put for- 
ward by the Stuarts, and he despised the dogma of non-resistance, as an 
attempt to eradicate by an apothegm, passions which the whole artificial 
fabric of societ}', has been constructed onl}^ to control." ^ When unwilling 
to be counted a Jacobite he did not hesitate to speak of the Pretender in 
terms of contempt.^ But when the Tor}- party assumed his cause as their 
own, and gave their party commands, he joined the Pretender, because " he 
looked on his part}' to be under oppression and to call for his assistance." "^ 

The utter exclusion of the Tories from the councils of the nation ; their 
forced connection with the Jacobites, and consequent participation in the 
ignominious defeats of armed rebellion ; the severities and penalties of 



^ "The effervescing elements of rebellion," ity. Had this happened, the second session 

says Cooke, "which the defeat at Preston of the next parliament would have been 

had forced back, at a moment when they opened by James III." — Hist, of Party, 

were about to burst, were still struggling for Vol. ii, p. 41. 

a vent; not a county of England, scarcely 2 History of Party, Vol. ii, p. 34. 

a hamlet in Scotland, was without its local 3 "The chevalier's religion is not founded 

conspiracy. In this conjuncture the hopes on the love of virtue and the detestation of 

of the conspirators were placed upon the vice." * * * " The spring of his whole 

dissolution which must take place at the end conduct is fear, fear of the horns of the 

of the following session. England, dizzy devil and of the flames of hell." * * * 

with the clash of factions, and sickening at " He has all the superstition of a capuchin; 

the spectacle of civil bloodshed, would but I found in him no tincture of the relig- 

then be called upon to elect the arbiter of ion of a prince." * * * "There is no> 

her destiny. Such the new House of Com- resource in his understanding. Men of the- 

inons it was allowed it must be. The best sense find it hard to overcome relig- 

avowed expectations of the Tories, the ious prejudices, which are of all the strong-- 

anxiety, and even terror of the Whigs, est; but he is a slave to the weakest." — 

show that there was at least reason to fear Letter to Windham. 

that the electors would return a Tory major- * Letter to Sir. Wm. Windham. 

33 



514 IIISTorvY OF DEMOCRACY. 

impeachment, and the degradations of impotent dislo3'alt3' ; their hopes 
in the common pride and passions of the people associated with the glor}^ 
of native princes, and their prejndices against the dominion of petty princes 
of foreign birth ; the unpopularity of the new King, and the presumptuous 
bearing of his imported followers ; the disaffection of timid and sj^mpa- 
thctic AVhigs, and the promising uncertainties of disappointed politicians, — 
too heavy to float, too light to sink, and yet not so contemptible as to be 
without the influence of wealth or the alliance of blood, — were circum- 
stances and conditions well calculated to incense a desperate party to 
resort to an}' scheme for the recover}' of power, and even to inspire delusive 
hopes of success. The confident tone and perseverance of the Tories in 
the avowed expectation that they would be able to return a majorit}^ in the 
new House of Commons, and the imminent danger of renewed civil war and 
bloodshed, — alarmed the Whigs and led them to believe that revolutionary 
evils could be met onl}' by revolutionar}- remedies. Their supreme confi- 
dence in principles gave them an illusory confidence in party strateg}', as 
if error could aid truth, folh' wisdom, and weakness power. When the 
Septennial Bill was first proposed, the Whigs were shocked at its political 
enormities, and evidentl}' ashamed to indorse its obvious absurdities. 
Their common instincts were truer than their judgment. The fact that 
they could not bring forward the measure in open parliament for discussion 
and candid deliberation, without a part}' caucus, clearly discovered the 
doubts of first impressions. It was not until they could meet together to 
impart their fears and doubts of strength — that they could be persuaded to 
adopt the fatal heresy that party necessity is paramount to constitutional 
duty. Party excitement is always unfavorable to duty, when questionable 
measures are proposed. When they require the aid of a conclave com- 
mittal, there \s prima facie evidence that their friends are counselled more 
by their doubts and fears, than by their honest convictions of duty. A 
caucus for party nominations of candidates for office, is a commendable 
mode of duty, a convenient method of action, a prudent conference, alike 
creditable to those who compose it, and just to parties who are to be afljected 
by its doings. A party caucus to bind legislative action is to place party 
obligations above those of the legislator. The one is under the solemnity 
of an oath, the other not. It is equivalent to holding a league with man 
more sacred than the invocations to God. It is not be assumed that the 
only remedy was in the Septennial Bill, or that, if it had failed that the 
Stuarts would have been replaced upon the throne. Such assumptions of 
prophetic argument generally afford conclusive evidence of conscious 
weakness. A Papist King, as such, could no more survive in England, 
than a Protestant Emperor in France. No party has the right to assume 
the guardianship of government, except upon the basis of principle, and so 
far as it is able to command the deliberate voice of the people. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 515 

The policy, however, pursued b^^ George I., was one of self defence. He 
had no alternative but to doubt the sincerit}- of the Tories, who had so 
recently been in conspiracy against him. He could trust onlj^ those who 
had proved themselves to be his political friends. Although it was said 
b}^ Lord Chesterfield that '' England was too large for him," it may be added 
with equal truth that England was made larger by the principles of his 
party. 

Political parties have their conventional rights, and the good of society 
demands that they should be fairly conceded. Partisans, as such, have 
their motives of action, and their theories of what is best for the govern- 
ment, and the people. With these they have their party responsibilities 
and they should be held strictly accountable. It is bound to be consistent 
with itself. A party in power, does injustice to the people, and to itself, — ■ 
if it fails to choose representative men of its own faith to exercise the 
power which for a time it holds in trust. In no other way can its theories 
be tested. These views are too obvious to need special elucidation. But, 
in adopting them, the great error should be avoided of indiscriminate action 
from mere part}^ motives. A part}^ in power, for example, is in legitimate 
position to administer the government according to principles professed and 
avowed by its acknowledged leaders. The professions of a part}' before 
an election are designed to secure the favor and confidence of the people, 
b}' a system of relief from grievances, and b^' a policy of promised benefits. 
Though each is accused b}' the other of all error and mischief, all are pro- 
fessedly honest, all are professedly loyal. Thus far the standard of party 
is properly made known, and it should be consistently regarded b}' its 
friends, and justl}' stated b}' its friends. Whatever is necessary for the 
information of the people ; whatever is in harmony with its own declaration 
of principle ; whatever is calculated to commend its own exercise of power, 
or to perpetuate its dominant position, — whether by the influence of its 
individual members, by the force of its own views and opinions, b}' the 
influence of its constitutional measures of government; or indeed, by every 
method of persuasion not inconsistent with obedience to law, or the spirit 
of loyalty to the government as it is, — all will admit to be within the com- 
pass of the duties of citizenship, and therefore allowable as emanating from 
legitimate considerations of party. 

Questions merel}' of a party character, are understood to be such as per- 
tain exclusively to part}', and not to countr}' ; such as assume the right to 
beg the question at issue b}' official action, and to impose laws to perpetu- 
ate part}' control ; such as presume upon the possession of power to 
enforce the wrong however dangerous may be the precedent. No emerg- 
ency, however great, will justify such usurpations to perpetuate party power. 
If the constitution is not equal to self preservation, it should be amended, 
as it was made, by the voice of the people. 



516 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

These views, however, will be better understood by reviewing some of 
the mistakes of the Whig part}-, during the reign of George I. It is a serious 
error to suppose that the democratic party is never wrong, though a per- 
manent truth that it is more uniformly right than its Tory opponents. 

Perhaps no measures better illustrate the wide departure from fundamen- 
tal principles, than the Septennial Bill, and Peerage Bill, proposed and 
acted upon during this reign. The Tories had been familiar with such 
measures, and they were not inconsistent with their standard of principle. 
It was an arbitrary exercise of power in harmony onl}^ with dangerous pre- 
cedents, and justified bj- no emergency not within the reach of ordinarj' 
remedies. , For a time the Whigs and Tories changed sides.^ The Tories 
affected to be alarmed when contemplating their ow^n fallacies, and the 
Whigs doubted the efficacy of their own faith by foolishly assuming that a 
Tory power was superior to a democratic principle. Nothing could be more 
certain, that if any questions were to be referred to the people — these were 
of the class to be submitted. The frequency of elections, the continuance 
of delegated authority are peculiarly questions of popular interest. To 
deny the importance of the one would be to doubt the exercise of their 
elective franchise ; to favor the other would be to alter what the people had 
already done themselves.^ 

It was with reluctance that William III. approved the Triennial Bill. 
As a measure to insure the legitimate benefits of the llevolution it might bo 
justified.^ It was asserted, how^ever, that it was deemed a necessity by 
the King as a condition of the current Supply Bill, a precedent as difficult 
to reject then as it has been since, though alwaj-s fraught with danger. 

The Septennial Bill was introduced in the House of Lords, by the Duke 
of Devonshire. The objects of the Bill were set forth in the preamble, and 
these were substantially repeated by the Duke.^ He spoke of *•' the incon- 
veniences that attended the triennial elections of members of parliament ; 
particularl}', that they serve only to keep up party, and to raise and foment 
feuds and animosities in private families ; that, besides, they occasion ruin- 
ous expenses, and give a handle to the cabals and intrigues of foreign 
princes : That, therefore, it was becoming of the wisdom of that august 
assembly, to apply a proper remedy to an evil w^hich might be attended 
with the most dangerous consequences, especially in the present temper of 
the nation, for though the rebellion was happily suppressed, jet the spirit 
of it remained unconquered," &c. He was seconded by the Earl of Rock- 
ingham, and the bill was favored by the Duke of Argyle, the Earl of 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, pp. 304, 305. ^ After reciting' the act, 6th, William and 

2 Ibid, pp. 305, 306. Mary, for making parhaments Triennial, 

3 Ibid, pp. 30, 323, 325, 333, 347, 355. the preamble of the bill proceeds thus : 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 517 

Dorset, and Lord Townshend. The Duke of Buckingham, the Lord Trevor, 
the Earls of Nottingham and Aj'lesford, and several other Peers, — although 
unwilling to oppose the bill, deemed it unreasonable, and of too much 
importance to be urged without careful deliberation. It was opposed by 
the Earls of Abingdon and Poulet, Lord Ferrers, and others — of the Tor}' 
Party, and for reasons set forth in a protest against the bill. The discus- 
sion of the bill affords an amusing chapter of party inconsistencies.^ *' The 
Whigs," says Cooke, " became suddenly awake to the great inconvenience 
of popular tumults ; the debaucheries occasioned by elections, and the 
corruption of the morals and principles of the people. They sighed over 
the animosities which these frequent contests created throughout the countr}', 
and declaimed at the exorbitance of their expense as ruinous to the 
candidates. They appropriated for the occasion all the common-places of 
Toryism, and paraded inconveniences which are as powerful to prove that 
parliaments should endure twent}^ years as that they should last for seven. 
The Tories, on the other hand, seized the artillery of their opponents. 
The Wliigs would not avow that they proposed this measure because they 
were unpopular, but the Tories dared not avow that their ground of opposi- 
tion was their hope of bringing in the Pretender. They, therefore, 
harangued on the topics of liberty, and discovered a sudden panic at the 
power of the crown, and a vehement affection for the rights of the people. 
They became assertors of the privileges of the House of Commons, and 
suddenly stood forth as the champions of those principles which it had long 
been the business of the party to persecute and deride." ^ 

Some of the Peers weie at a loss what to say, or how to vote, though 
resolved not to embarrass the ministers. The Duke of Buckingham declared, 
" That he would not be against this Bill, if he thought it for the King's 



" And whereas, it hath been found by Gxpe- quelled, and the strength of the rebels 
rience, that the said clause hath proved very entirely broken, but the disaffection of the 
grievous and burthensome, by occasioning people was not yet conquered. The parlia- 
much greater and more continued expenses, ment being only of three years continuance, 
in order to elections of members to serve in all the hopes of the other party seemed to 
parliament, and more violent and lasting be centred in this, that the parliament would 
heats and animosities among the subjects expire, and they should be able to return a 
of this realm, than were ever known before party majority at the next election." To 
the said clause was enacted ; and the said prevent this the Septennial Bill was pro- 
provision, if it should continue, may prob- posed. It not only lengthened the duration 
ably at this juncture, when a restless and of future parliaments, but the members who 
Papish faction are designing and endeavor- had been elected only for three years, pro- 
ing to renew the rebellion within this king- longed, of their own authority, the term of 
dom, and an invasion from abroad, be their continuance for four years more. — 
destructive to the peace and security of the Coxe'sWalpole. Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, p. 295. 
government: Be it enacted, etc." i Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, pp. 296, 297, 300. 
Tindall says, " The rebellion was now 2 Moyle to Horace Walpole. 



618 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

interest and service ; but he was afraid the crown would he the worse for 
it." His objections were stated with much force, and yet he voted for the 
bill. The Earl of Dorset said, " That they who now spoke against this bill, 
would be for it, if it served their turn, etc." Nothing, probablj-, was more 
true, and yet, as a reason for it nothing could be more absurd from a Whig. 
The Duke of Kingston urged — " That the business of the legislature was to 
rectif}' old laws, as well as to make new ones." This is true, but when the 
people have acted according to the provisions of an old law, the legislature 
has no authority- to alter what the people have done under it. It was 
doubtless competent for parliament to pass the Septennial Bill, to take 
effect at the period of a new election, already determined by the triennial 
law, but not at the expense of disfranchising the people.^ The Earl of 
Aylesford uttered a comprehensive truth when he said, " This bill will 
establish a grievance, and take awa}^ a remed}'." The bill was carried in 
the lords by a majorit}' of thirty-five.^ 

When sent to the Commons, the Lord Guernsey moved to reject the bill 
without a reading. It was held, " That it was an imposition of the Lords 
to take upon them to direct the Commons in a matter, which solely con- 
cerns them, as guardians of the rights and liberties of the people." "^ This 
view was seconded by Shippen, who said, "I shall apprehend it inconsistent 
with our honor to receive it." But this factious opposition was met by the 
Lord Coningsb}', who remarked, *' That their objection was altogether 
groundless, and the result of their want, either of experience or memor}^ ; 
for, had they like himself, been members of that house, when the triennial 
act was made, they might have remembered, that the same was begun in 
the House of Lords, who as a part of the legislature, are no less guardians 
of the liberty of the subject, than the Commons themselves." Such an 
objection from a Tory could have had but little force, inasmuch as the 
action of the Lords was doubtless to relieve the Commons from the charge 
of introducing a measure designed to increase their own power and to 
lessen that of the people. It was a shrewd party expedient. 

The bill was extensively discussed in the Commons, by both parties, 
eliciting fresh absurdities, but no new views or motives.^ The ablest 
speech made against the bill was by William Shippen, a bold and undis- 

1 The Tories thought the most witty obser- leave of that venerable bench (he continued, 

vation was tliat made on t' ;r side by the turning to the bishops) they had recourse to 

Earl of Peterborough, who was a Tory the distinction used in the Athanasian Creed, 

because Marlborough was a Whig. This for they would be neither created Hor made, 

leading member of a party which claimed to but proceeding." — Hist, of Party ^ Vol. ii, 

be the champion of our Protest;int Church, p. 4G. 

said that, "if the present parliament con- 2 Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, p. 305. 

tinued beyond the time for which they were ^ Parl. Deb., Vol. vii. p. 308. 

chosen, he knew not how to express the ^ Ibid, p. 310. 
manner of their existence, unless, begging 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 519 

guised Tor}'.^ He had no love nor compliment for the ministr}-. " It is no 
concern of ours, " said he, " whether they have rendered themselves odious to 
the people or not. The}- are more properly the object of our jealous}- than 
our care. They may be destro^-ed and the government subsist." He justl}' 
regarded such legislation as " paving the way to a despotic and military 
government, the greatest calamity that can befall a free-born people." 
His speech is so replete with sound philosophy-, and as it is not often that 
an honest Tory speaks the truth for part}- purposes, it is commended to the 
reader as worthy of his particular attention.^ But, as Shippen temporarily 
became an advocate of democracy to oppose the democrats, it may be 
interesting to see how Sir Richard Steele favored Toryism against the 
Tories.'^ After repeating arguments which had already been urged by 
others, he said, — "It is objected, ' That the alteration proposed is a breach 
of trust:* The trust. Sir, reposed in us, is that of the public good : the 
King, Lords and Commons, are the parties who exercise this trust ; and 
when the King, Lords and Commons exercise this trust by the measure of 
the common good, they discharge themselves, as well in the altering and 
repealing as in the making or confirming laws. The period of time, in 
this case, is a subordinate consideration ; and those gentlemen who are 
against the alteration, speak in too pompous a style, when they tell us, ' we 
are breaking into the constitution." 

It is not a little remarkable that Sir Richard should repeat the same error 
"which was committed by his opponents w^hen they impeached him. " The 
public good," under a constitutional government is " a trust " under speci- 
fied instructions. When the public good is defined by law, any attempt to 
give a different construction is usurpation. Ubijus incertum^ ihi jus nuU 
luni. Where the law is uncertain, there is no law, — is an old Law maxim. 
His remark that the period of time ' is a subordinate consideration,' was 
singularly unfortunate. It was the principal fact of the case. Had his 
opponents moved his impeachment on the ground that the times were 
altered after his election, and therefore, the public good demanded his 
rejection, — it would have been quite as reasonable as the Septennial Bill. 
If Parliament could assume to act for the people in doubling the time they 
had granted, — on the same principle they could deny it entirely. Indeed, 



1 Of Shippen, Pope says ; 2 See Pari. Deb., Vol. tii, p. 312. 

3 These debates form an era in tie history 
* I love to pour out all myself, as plain ^^ ^^le national parties, since they afford the 

As downright Shippen, or as old Montaigne." ^ . ^ , rr, . . ^ 

first instance oi the Tones assuming, lor a 

Sir Robert Walpole said of him : *' That temporary purpose, the advocacy of popular 

he would not say who was corrupted, but rights. Since that time the expedient hra 

he would say who was not corruptible ; that been so commonly practised, that it is now 

man was Shippen." — Coxe's Walpole. an ordinary and well-understood branch of 



520 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

it would be safer to deny official position, altogether, to one who had been 
elected by the people, than to him who assumed to act for them during a 
period not authorized b}^ their special vote. Besides, if the Commons could 
ri2;litfullv enlarge the powers which alone belong to the people to define and 
limit, it Avould be competent for the people to lessen, or revoke authority 
alrcad}' delegated by them. Such a precedent cannot be defended. Noth- 
ing- can be more obvious than the principle of delegated authority. It is 
nothing but what it is made, and it acquires nothing by time.i An editor 
of Blackstone's Commentaries, sa3^s, '' It never can be supposed that the 
next, or any succeeding parliament, had not the power of repealing the tri- 
ennial act." '^ Of coarse, the law could be repealed, but it was quite a 
different thing to modify the vote of the people under the law. All legisla- 
tive trusts, to be consistent, are self limited as to time and principle. By 
the constitution as to ^^rinciple, and specific terms as to time. The prin- 
ciple is clearly stated by Locke, in his Treatise on Government. " The 
power of the legislative," says he, " being derived from the people by a 
positive voluntary grant and institution, can be no other than what that 
positive grant conveyed ; which being only to make laws and not legislators, 
the legislative can have no power of transferring their authority of making 
laws, and placing it in other hands." 

The Whigs seemed to forget that their former glory and strength 
consisted in their loyalty, and in their uniform devotion to the British 
Constitution. The}^ saw imaginary dangers in their opponents, and an 
infallible power in themselves to meet them. This was usurpation. They 
were willing to risk the permanent evil of a dangerous precedent, to accom- 
plish an uncertain temporar}^ good. They believed in democracy to 
administer the government, but not to save their part}'. The Septennial 
Bill passed the Commons by a majority of two hundred and sixty-four 
against one hundred and twenty-one.^ 



party strategy ; but we should not forget to I know at extraordinary junctures, conven- 

render to Shippen and Wyndham the honor tions have been turned into parfiaments ; 

of its invention. The conduct of these able but it has been thought advisable soon to 

leaders appears to have been prompted by a determine them, and to pass acts in the 

profound knowledge of the resources of subsequent legal parliaments, to confirm 

their party. Toryism was formed for gov- what they have done." * * * "By this bill, 

ernment; it is only a creed for rulers, you have all the raiscbief of a long parlia- 

— Ilxsi. of Pai-iy, Vol. ii, p. 49. ment, without any of the good of a short 

^ Sir Pvobcrt Raymond, member of the one."— ParZ. Deh. Vol. vii, p. 339. Sir 

Houscof Commons, said, "With great sub- Robert was Solicitor General to Queen 

mission I speak it, in my poor opinion, Anne, and Attorney General to George tli© 

Km?, Lords, and Commons can no more First. 

continue a parliament beyond its natural 2 Parl. Deb., Vol. vii, p. 294. 
duration, than they can make a parliament. ^ Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, p. 379. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 521 

The Commons had been made sufficient!}- permanent by the Septennial 
Bill, and it now remained to reconstruct the House of Lords. The King was 
persuaded to believe that his position as a Whig was of more consequence 
to the nation than the constitutional prerogatives of the crown. He did 
not hesitate to declare in a Message to the House of Lords his readiness to 
cooperate in '' the settling of the Peerage of the whole Kingdom, upon 
such a foundation, as may secure the freedom and constitution of parliament 
in all future ages." ^ It is interesting to observe, with what confidence he 
is made to speak of a mere party movement of to-da}-, — which is to last 
forever. He was led to speak first to prepare the public mind for the 
measure. It Avas apparently against the prerogatives of the crown, and his 
approval in advance was designed to obviate such an objection, as it was 
certain to be made. The Tories, in the reign of Queen Anne did not hes- 
itate to create Peers for party purposes. The}' were severely condemned 
by the Whigs. But now, the Whigs professed to see no good reason wh}" 
such a precedent should not be followed by a part}' claiming always to be 
honest when in power, if not always honest in acquiring the means of 
power. 

It was not unlikely that the bitter disaffection between the King and the 
Prince of Wales, was regarded as favorable to the future strength of the 
Tory party. Here may be seen an unavoidable evil in hereditary monarchy. 
The King expressed without qualification or concealment an unnatural 
aversion to his son. The Tories saw too much advantage in such an 
alienation not to increase and perpetuate it on every available occasion.^ 
The heir to the crown, unfortunately, becomes the special object of party 
attention, when party spirit prevails. A weak, or ambitious prince or 
2:)rincess, entitled to the crown, is not often equal to the many temptations 
wliich promise distinction, or the means of pleasurable indulgence. The 
atmosphere of the court is not favorable to parental affection, or parental 
authority. The royal infant becomes the child of state. Its birth and 
education are surrounded by heartless formalities ill suited either to quicken 
or continue a fatlier's joy, or a mother's love. It is left to smile on a 
servile nurse, and to be caressed by obsequious strangers. Its childhood 
is severed from the maternal bosom as the budding flower is when cut from 
its natural stem. Instead of blooming in the sunny light of a mother's 
tender affection, it is doomed to the cold shade of mere preceptorial 
instruction. Often without the benefit of a father's good example, or the 
encouraging kindness of maternal love, — the child rises from youth to 
manhood with an imposing parade of culture, but without a practical 
knowledge of virtue, or of religion. It is petted with the follies of fashion, 



I Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, p. 590. 2 Parl. Deb., Vol. vit, p. 607. 



622 msTCRY OF democracy. 

misled and flattered bj^ a pampered nobilit}', and taught by cunning poli- 
ticians to turn filial reverence into partisan hate. Where, then, is the 
wonder that such a being should be incapable of honoring his father and 
mother, or that parents should forget, or discard their offspring ! It was 
said b}' apologists, alwa3's ready with an inventive genius to defend the 
weaknesses of royalty, that the King's dislike to the prince, was because of 
liis doubtful paternit}'. There is no evidence to warrant such a speculation, 
and the King is not entitled to its benefit in history.^ 

The ostensible motives for the Peerage Bill were stated by the Duke of 
Somerset when he presented it. " The number of peers being of late years," 
said ho, " very much increased since the union of the two kingdoms, it 
seemed absolutel}^ necessary to fix the same, both to preserve the dignitv 
of peerage, and to prevent the inconveniences that maj^ attend the creation 
of a great number of peers to serve a present purpose, of which the}" had a 
remarkable instance in the late reign." It was certainl}" a singular mode 
of preserving " the dignity of peerage," by limiting the sources of its future 
growth to the ordinary chances of birth. Party is never bashful in the 
choice of imposing language, and the more doubtful the occasion, the 
greater the necessity of pretence. To denominate the act of Anne as a 
mere inconvenience, was as charitable as the claim to dignit}^ was preten- 
tious. 

The Bill was discussed with much feeling, and not a little embarrassment. 
It was defended by the Whigs with evident reluctance and doubt. The 
King permitted his influence to be used without disguise, and with a show 
of such ample historical fairness, that it was hoped that the Whigs would 
generally unite in supporting it.^ But the}" divided, — and its consideration, 
though pressed with inconsiderate haste b}' the Earl of Sunderland and 
others, was postponed from time to time to insure consolidated party 
action. The changes in the Peerage, from the reign of Queen Elizabeth 
were reviewed,^ and it was insisted with much vigor and apparent sincerity, 
that there was no safety but in its limitation, and that its limitation did 
not trench upon the prerogatives of the crown. The Earls of Oxford and 
Cowper, — did not hesitate to expose " the secret meaning of the motion," 
and the inconsistency of the special friends of the King — who were willing 
to serve him by taking away his constitutional power, and by subordinating 
both him and the Peerage to part}- control. Of course, party motives were 



^ Dr. Smucker says, — " After the return dispute is said by some writers to have been 

of George I. from Hanover the open quarrel jealousy of the popularity gained by the 

occurred between him and the Prince of Prince during the exercise of his regency. 

Wales, which continued during the remain- — Hist, of the Four Georges, p. 44. 

der of the life of the monarch, and became '^ Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, p. GIO. 

disgracefully notorious. The origin of the ^ ibid, p. 593. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 523 

disclaimed, with extravagant protestations of duty,^ as they always are in 
such cases of outrage upon principle. But few were deceived, though tlie 
bill was passed in the House of Lords by a considerable majorit}', and sent 
to the Commons. Tiie Whig majority of the Lords, however, did not 
satisfy the Whig majority of the nation. The measure was unpopular w ith 
the people, and generally condemned. 

The part}^ embariassments of the Commons were soon overcome b}' the 
spirit of democratic decenc}'. The Whigs were restored to a sense of 
danger, and were led to see that there were no means of averting it but by 
bohl and independent action. Democracy was self-confident, and dis(Uiined 
the expedients of artifice. The skilful pen of Addison was employed to 
defend the measure, and Steele became his opponent.^ This controversy, 
between Addison and Steele, was of great vehemence, and it was deeply 
lamented by Dr. Johnson. Thej^ had long been friends, and were members 
of the same party. Sir Robert Walpole, also, publisiied a pamphlet, and 
made a powerful speech upon the subject. Though no man was better versed 
in democratic principles than Addison, — yet, the zealous impetuosity of 
Sunderland, and the bribes, promises and threats of ministers, and the 
assurance that it was in accordance with the wishes of his majesty, — that it 
should become a law, — his amiableness was overcome, and he was induced 
to cease for a time to be a statesman, and to act the part of a lawyer. It 
is possible that Steele was influenced b}' similar considerations, — but led 
b3' other men of equal distinction in an opposite direction, and b}' personal 
convictions of duty to his favorite part}^ and to his countr}'. His objec- 
tions to the bill were set forth in a speech of much ability, trulj^ refreshing 
to the reader, after seeing his departure from democracy in his language on 



1 During the interval between the proroga- that any person who styled himself a Whig 

tion and meeting of parliament the minister should oppose it; and exerted himself in 

exerted every effort to engage a majority in the business with so much heat and violence, 

its favor. Bribes were profusely lavished, that in endeavoring to persuade Middleton, 

promises and threats were alternately Lord Chancellor of Ireland, who refused to 

employed, in every shape wliich his sanguine support the measure in the British House 

and overbearing temper could suggest. He of Commons, tlie blood gushed froni his 

affected to declare, that it was the King's nose." — Coxe's Walpole. 
desire, and not the act of the ministry ; he 

did not attempt to conceal that it was 2 Coxe says, — " In vain the pen of Addi- 

levelled against the future government of son had been employed in defending the 

the Prince of Wales, whom he represented Bill, in a paper called, 'The Old Whig,' 

as capable of doing mad things wlien he against Steele, who attacked it in a pam- 

came to the throne. He declared that the phlet entitled 'The Plebeian;' and whose 

necessary consequence of its rejection would arguments had greater weight with the 

be the ruin of the Whigs, and the introduc- public."— Coze's Walpole. See Pari. Deb., 

tion of the Tones into the confidence and Vol. vii, pp. GOT, G08, 609, 610. 
favor of the King; expressed his surprise 



524 HISTOPwY OF DEMOCRACY. 

the Septennial Bill. *' I am against the Bill," said he, "because I fear it 
will change this free state into the worst of all tyrannies, that of an aris- 
tocrac}-." He pointed out the want of harmou}' between the preamble of 
the bill, and the provisions of the bill itself, and demonstrated that it would 
be an act of arbitrary power, in violation of the act of Union with Scotland.^ 
He ridiculed tlie idea that it was favored by the King, and expressed his 
fears, a conclusion- all true men would be likely to accept, — " That what 

IS FOUNDED ON USURPATION, WILL BE EXERTED IN TYRANNY." 

But the great speech on this occasion was that of Walpole. To his 
influence, in and out of parliament, more than any other, must be attributed 
the rejection of the bill in the House of Commons. It was rejected b}" a 
majorit}' of ninet^'-two.^ 

To form a just estimate of the numerous changes, and modifications of 
political parties, in the reign of George I., it is necessar}- to understand the 
peculiar characteristics of that age in respect to all things. It was a specu- 
lative age. As much so, perhaps, as an}' recorded in history. It was an 
age of doubt and insincerit}'. It was an age of credulity in all that was 
impossible, and of incredulity in all that was true and fundamental. There 
was unbounded confidence in the extremes of things, not upon an}' known 
principle, but in utter contempt of all knowledge of fallacies. Money 
became invested with a fabulous power of self-production, and instead of 
contributing to the wants of industry, became its master and enem}'. Men 
and women, the laboring poor and the wealthy ; the peer and the commoner ; 
ro3'alty,^ and the nobility, — alike became infatuated with the wonderful 
virtue of corporate schemes, and the omnipotent power of mone}'. The 
only mode of doing business, was to abandon old methods, and with wild 
fanaticism to compete for new ones. This was the period of the " South 
Sea Bubble," in which the government, and political parties became exten- 
sively involved. As it embraced the munificent feature of paying off the 
government debt, and at the same time promised untold wealth to share- 
holders, most men of prominence, whether public or retired, the statesman 
and the politician, — either became connected with the great scheme itself, 
or with one or more of its extensive progeny. The whole nation participa- 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. vii, pp. 612, 614, 615. upon the Whigs in opposition to exert theni- 

2 Cooke says, " There can be little doubt selves against a measure which came art- 
tliat, had the Peerage Bill succeeded, the fully recommended as a pledge of salvation 
popular indignation would ere long have to their purty.'" —Hist. Party, Vol. Ii, p. 
swept away the House of Lords. The 87. 

iionor of defeating this short-sighted mcas- 3 The Prmce of Wales was governor of 

ure is due to Walpole, although, from his the Welsh Copper Company. The speaker 

recent conduct, we may be allowed to doubt and Mr. Walpole did their utmost to dis- 

whether his motives were as patriotic as suade him, but to no purpose, — Pari. Deb., 

his acts. It was he alone who prevailed Vol. vii, p. 654. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 525 

ted in the strange infatuation, and the government itself became a party to 
the delusion, and was ultimately involved in the mortifying results and 
general despair of the people. To conve}^ to the reader an adequate idea 
of the wild schemes of this period would require a volume.^ Politicians 
were so generally interested in the prevailing bubbles that they saw but 
little opportunity to become party informers against their opponents. Most 
were sharers in the numerous impositions, and had special motives for 
concealment. There were some few exceptions, but not enough to form a 
party, even if they were united on other issues before the government. 
Parliament pursued a course of nominal independence, and ordered with 
grave formality severe investigations. It was made a penal offence for any 
person or persons, even to petition for an act of incorporation for an}' pur- 
pose whatever.^' The members could do no less, — though most of them 
were probably at a loss as to what means they had to restore ruined fortunes, 
to hide the villainies of knowing rogues, or the follies of their suffering 
victims. So confident were the active agents of the South Sea scheme, 
tliat the government itself, directl}' or indirectly, was induced to become an 
interested party in its doings. They were so bold at first, that the}' were 
disposed to def}' all parliamentary committees, and to defend themselves 
against all complaints of contempt, by the use of their special knowledge of 
prominent participators in the great imposition. 

With such an atmosphere of doubt and reckless activity, it was impossible 
that any political party could study any particular standard of principle, 
with much hope of successful duty. The Whig party, though largely in 
the ascendent, lost sight of its great source of strength in democracj'. It 
separated into jealous and hostile factions, and placed confidence in men 
and management, as above principle and dut}'. The Tory party began to 
realize that it could no longer quote its maxims of " divine right," and 



ISirJohn Blunt, formerly a scrivener, was 'Twas no court-badge, great scriv'ncr! fir'd thy 

one of the projectors of the South Sea Nor lordly luxury, nor city gain : 

Company, and one of the chief managers. No, 'twas thy righteous end, asham'd to see 

He was called before a committee of parHa- Senates degenerate, patriots disagree, 

And nobly wishing party-rage to cease, 

ment, and a resolution of censure reported to buy both sides, and give thy country peace." 

and passed. He is noticed by Pope : — Pari. Deh. Vol. vii, p. 702. 

2 The King publislied a Proclamation 

"Much injured Blunt ! why bears he Britain's hate ? declaring all these unlawful projects sliould 

A wizard told him in these words our fate : be deemed common nuisances, and prose- 

♦ At length Corruption, like a gen'ral flood i. j u -xi xi i^ /• /.p•.^^ ,. 

• (So long by watchful ministers withstood) ^uted as such ; with the penalty of £500 for 
•Shall deluge all: and Av'rice creeping on, any broker to buy or sell any shares in 
•Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun; ^hem. They were stopped, but not until 
' Statesman, and Patriot, ply alike the stocks, . 

•Peeress and Butler share alike the box, a"er business had been prostrated and 

"AndJudges Job, and Bishops bite the town, many ruined. — Parh Deb. Vol. vii, p. 654. 

•And mighty Dukes pack cards for half a crown. ^^ j^^^^ j^^^^ ^ j^j^^ ^^ ^j^^ Bubbles, m 
See Britain sunk in lucre's soraid charms. ^ _ ' 

•And France reveng'd on Anne's and Edward's 'arms.' the Appendix. See Appendix G. 



526 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

" non-resistance," with any hopes of renewed influence, and that the Jacob- 
ites had ceased to inspire confidence either in their cause, or in their 
promises. 

It would be interesting to note the various changes and their causes, in 
the cabinet, after the resignation of Sunderland, but they are too much of a 
personal nature to afford much instruction to the reader. Sunderland was 
an ambitious man. Though very unpopular, he retired with reluctance. 
When he failed to neutralize the partialit}^ of the King for Walpole, he did 
not cease his intrigues for favor and position.^ He exerted his influence to 
remove the ministers of the cabinet just formed by Walpole, and to irritate 
the King against his son, the Prince of Wales. He had his influential 
friends, and in his disappointments was not averse to a coalition with the 
Tories. He w^as toasted and complimented by them, and it was asserted 
that he even favored the cause of the Pretender. Before his intrigues were 
matured, however, he was removed by the hand of death, and he was not 
permitted to see the utter failure of all his hopes and plans. The Tories 
were elated by the slightest encouragement, and their hopes were chiefly 
centred in the promises of their former enemies. They were even cheered 
by a proposed foreign league against England, formed by the cabinets of 
Vienna, Madrid and Russia, but this hope was crushed by the Whigs who 
met the threatened danger by an alliance with France and Prussia.^ 

Bolingbroke returned from his banishment, but as he had been denounced 
by the Jacobites as their bitter enemy, — it became his early purpose to 
reorganize the Tory partj^, excluding the chief elements of its former faith. 
He announced its death and burial, and sought the aid of leading Whigs, 
who were out of power, to organize a new party in opposition to the 
Walpole administration. He pursued the usual plan, adopted b}^ disap- 
pointed politicians, by denouncing all party names and distinctions, and 
called upon all lovers of freedom and justice, to unite upon a patriotic basis 
for the good of the countrj^ irrespective of party. He gained a powerful 
ally in Pulteney, whose personal resentments against Walpole were yet to 
be relieved. A new paper was established to promulgate the principles of 
the new part}', on the obsolete basis of no-party. ^ As the language of this 
paper not only represents its authors, but may with great propriety make a 
part of this chapter, a brief extract is inserted : '' As everybody knows that, 
for near a century past, this kingdom hath been continually agitated with 



1 To remove Walpole from Parliament, once against my inclination, and I will 

Sunderland proposed to the King to create never part with him again as long as he is 

him postmaster-general for life. But on willing to serve me." — Hist, of Partify 

being told that he had not asked for the Vol. ii, p 96. 

appointment, the King said, " Do not, then, 2 Coxe's Walpole and Correspondence, 

make him the offer, I parted with him 3 The Craftsman. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 527 

contentions ; occasioned by mutual jealousies and uneasiness between the 
prince and the people, for libert}- on the one side and the prerogative on the 
other ; in which also religion has not been a little concerned. These dis- 
putes, which have divided the nation into two great factions, and brought 
about several wonderful revolutions in our government, seem at present to 
be, in a great measure, terminated b}' the firm establishment of the 
Protestant succession against all attempts to defeat it, and hj the general 
affection of the people to his majesty's person, family and government. 

" Notwithstanding this, the names of distinction are still kept up, when 
our differences are so generally reconciled ; and we preserve the same 
bitterness, hatred, and animosity against each other, whilst we are in the 
same interest and pursue the same end as when we professed contrary views 
and took measures diametrically opposite. 

" If 3-0U ask a Whig for his opinion of a Tor}-, he'll tell you, in general, 
that he is a Jacobite or a Papist ; a friend to arbitrar}^ government, and 
against the liberties of the people, both in church and state. 

" Take the character of a Whig, in like manner, from a Torj-, and 3'ou 
will hear him described to be a man of republican principles ; a Presbyterian, 
and a sworn enemy to the church of England and the regal prerogative ; 
na}', it will be well for him if he is not set forth as a downright atheist or 
libertine, and an enem}- to all government whatever." ^ 

Bolingbroke used similar language in his political writings, always dis- 
guising Tory schemes with avowed sentiments of democrac}'. It was even 
believed by some, that had Walpole, or Sunderland encouraged him as a 
leader in the Whig party, though it was well known that they opposed his 
pardon and return, that he would have openly declared himself a democrat. 
He complained bitterly that he received more damage from his friends than 
his enemies. An enemy is not trusted, and there is always a ready 
defence against his attack, but a treacherous friend is sometimes proved 
most dangerous when most trusted. Such a belief, however, was not con- 
sistent with an accurate estimate of ambitious men. It is true, if it may be 
supposed that Walpole could have j'ielded, Bolingbroke might have done 
the same. One was as possible as the other. Ambitious men of power 
are often easily reconciled with opponents of inferior capacity, but the}- are 
not easil}- induced to favor rivals. They seldom make agreements but to 
master, and the}- generally retire to secure a new position, if the}- do not 
succeed. Bolingbroke afforded an interesting illustration of this truth by 
employing women to accomplish his ends. By the influence of his wife and 
the Duchess of KendalP he was permitted to return from his banishment. 



1 Craftsman, No. 40. Frederic Achatius, Count of SchvJenhurgh 

2 The Ducliess cf Kendall was sister of and Iledlcn. Petronelle Melesina, Count- 



528 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

By tlioii- influence he made systematic efforts to induce tlic King to make 
him chief minister, and to remove Walpole and Townshend^ He was 
persistent and artful in his movements. The Duchess of Kendall served 
him with as much faithfulness as an}^ one could, who had no choice but to 
serve two parties at the same time, — representing rival aspirations, and 
opposing interests. The social intimac}' existing between Walpole and the 
King was not favorable to such intrigues. The}' were opposed and con- 
demned b}^ the King, and well known to Walpole. Bolingbroke was not 
easil}' discouraged. Conscious of his own great and persuasive powers, he 
sought an interview with the King as the only direct means of success. 
After much difficult}^, but not without the aid of Walpole himself, he 
secured a hearing. The result was mortif3'ing to Bolingbroke, and amusing 
both to the King and Walpole. It gave strength to the ministers, and 
enabled Bolingbroke to see that he could indulge in no hope of advance- 
ment except in the formation of a new party. This too, was difficult and 
unpromising when he saw that there was no chance for success save by the 
aid of democratic statesmanship, and the cooperation with old political 
opponents. In this period, as in all times, is to be found " auxiliar}- 
Whigs," and " auxiliary Tories," party men b}' name but not in principle — 
ready to participate in an}' coalition that promised control or advantage. 
Such men acquire but little party strength. They talk much, but seldom 
act. They are often respectable, even distinguished, but they are too timid 
to be useful, too neutral to be honest. 

Who could better lament the bitter fruits of party than a disappointed 
party-man, who aspired to the highest, and yet had not reached the lowest 
position. It is the language of Bolingbroke : 

" There is no complaint which hath been more constantly in the mouths, 
no grief hath lain more heavily at the hearts of all good men, than those 
about our national divisions ; about the spirit of party, which inspires ani- 
mosity and breeds rancour ; which hath so often destroyed our inward 
peace, weakened our national strength, and sullied our glory abroad. It is 
time, therefore, that all who desire to be esteemed good men, and to pro- 
cure the peace, the strength, and the glory of their country by the only 
means by which they can be procured effectually, should join their efforts to 
heal our national divisions, and to change the narrow spirit of party into a 
diffusive spirit of public benevolence." 



ess of Walsingham, who afterwards mar- Darlington, and in consideration of £11, 

ried the Earl of Chesterfield, was supposed 000, she assured Lord Bolingbroke that she 

to be her daughter, by George I., though would obtain his complete restoration. She 

she was considered as her niece. The returned to England, and died in 1743, at a 

Duchess was without a rival in the confi- very advanced age. — Pai'l. Deb., Vol. viii, 

dence of the King, on the death of Lady pp. 5G9, 573. 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 529 

To those who would oppose this union, he exclaims : ** Wicked and unhappy 
men ! who seek their private safety in opposing public good. Weak and 
silly men ! who vainly imagine that they shall pass for the nation, and the 
nation for a faction ; that they shall be judged in the right, and the w hole 
body of the people in the wrong ! How long do they imagine that so 
unequal a contest can last ? " ^ 

It is more than a century and a half since the utterance of this democratic 
language by a Tory. He appeals to all parties to become democratic in 
principle, and yet, to " the narrow spirit of party," of which he complains, the 
world is indebted for that " diffusive spirit of public benevolence," for which 
he so earnestly prays. The " unequal contest " is still continued and will be, 
forever. Unequal only for a daj', for the steady triumphs of democracy 
demonstrate the inevitable progress of its principles, and that, without 
them, no nation can acquire permanent life and strength, the indispens- 
able conditions upon which " the public good " depends. 

But what are the teachings of the reign of George I. ? In some respects 
his reign was marked by singular party absurdities. Party infatuation 
prevailed, but without consistenc3\ It was not even decent. Democracy 
w-as triumphant in influence, but not in unity. The Tories lost all power, 
but they did not surrender to the Whigs. Parties were divided into fac- 
tions. The Whigs administered the government, but they were not true to 
democrac}'. Corruption was denounced b^^ all, and all were guilty of it. 
With an}' hope of success, it was considered the only method of attack, 
and it was deemed the cheapest method of defence. If corruption had not 
succeeded in returning a majority of Whigs to the Commons, Walpole was 
ready to extend the septennial period of parliament. The Church was 
neither true to itself, nor true to party. Bishop Atterbury was the acknowl- 
edged leader of the Jacobites, but he was not a Jacobite himself. He was 
a Protestant, and yet he favored a Catholic King. Bolingbroke ceased to 
be a Tory, and became a political philanthropist. He imagined tliat he 
could form the strongest party by being true to no party. The govern- 
ment claimed to be democratic but it was so blinded by the possession of 
power, that it did not hesitate to adopt a Tor}- heres}' to meet a Torj^ danger. 
The guilt of Atterbury was not legall}' proved, but he was banished by 
moral evidence, by " the higher law." Tory activity onl}' added to Whig 
influence, and yet the people were without the full benefit of democracy. 
The facetious remark of Walpole, " that he governed the King by means of 
bad Latin," was not without its special truth and significance. The Whigs 
were too strong to be mastered, but too ignorant to be honest. Their suc- 
cess was in the professions of democracj^, and their failure in the practice 
of its principles. Whigs would not desert democracy, but they were, willing 



1 Dissertation on Parties, Letter 

34 



530 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

to join the Tories. Private motives were paramount to public good. 
Monarch}' claimed a triumph, but its special friends saw the fruits of vic- 
tory only in tlie hands of an aristocracj'. Even the great Bolingbroke 
doubted himself, and trusted the women. He labored only b}' anonymous 
communications, and for a motle}' part}'. Rivals and opponents were sleep- 
lessl}' vigilant in watching each other in constant fear and expectation of 
trick and intrigue, — and yet it was left to the Duke of Orleans, of France, 
to disclose a plot, which, if carried out, would have involved not only the 
safety of England, but the peace of Europe. Part}^ struggles were inces- 
sant, but the}- were the struggles of factions under a common name. 
Public topics became involved with private motives and personal resent- 
ments. Every faction had its leader. P2very leader had his scheme, but no 
scheme could stand alone. The King depended on his minister, and his 
minister on the possession of power, or the means of corruption. Tlie 
commons depended on the voice of the people, and the people on the vote 
of parliament. The Church restlessly leaned upon the government, but all 
rested upon the influence only to be found in the mighty name of Democ- 
racy. Even the partial application of democratic principles advanced and 
secured the peace of the nation, and, in a general way, protected the 
industry, rights and interests of the people. 

When George I. died, he was in his carriage on his wa}' to Germany, and 
almost as ignorant, perhaps, of the policy which saved the crown to the 
House of Hanover, as he was of the people of England when he ascended 
tlie throne.^ A nominal democracy was found to be superior to a real 
monarchy. The inquiry still remains to be answered, — In what consists 
the intrinsic elements of royalty, and where are the sources of its strength 
and power? They are not to be found in the reign of George I., and it 
remains to be seen what truths are developed in the events of the reign of 
George II. 

GEORGE THE SECOND. 

The events which marked the accession of George the second to the 
iBritish throne, and the peculiar combinations of men, and of mind — which 
.distinguished his long reign, are worthy of particular consideration. Not 
sso much on account of any preponderating influence of great men, or of 
.any masterly system of policy pursued during the changes of an entire 



1 The Kijag' departed for Hanover June 3d, the carriage was ascending the hill near 

1727, and died on Sunday, June 11th, in Ippenburen, or on the summit. On their 

•the 68th year of his age and 13th of his arrival at the palace of his brother, the 

reign. It it said, however, that the exact Bishop of Osnaburg, lie was immediately 

time and place cannot be ascertained; but bled, but all attempts to recover him proved 

lit is mostjrobablej.that he expired either as ineffectual. — PaW. Deh., Vol. viii, p. 572. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 531 

generation, as in tlie conflicts of antagonistic elements which rather neu- 
tralized than mastered each other. The nominal power of roj'alty — aided by 
adventitious circumstances, and an indilferent democratic faith, — proved to 
be superior to the highest statesmanship of Toryism. 

There is certainl}' nothing in the history of hereditary monarch}^ that 
should either flatter the pride of ro3'alty, or discourage the hopes of democ- 
racy. Experience from the earliest periods utters the same teachings, and 
illustrates b}' constantly recurring examples — the follj^ and weakness of 
man, the unerring wisdom of God. 

Gideon of Manasseh, the chosen deliverer of Israel, was not taken from 
an untainted famih'. Joash, his father, had erected an altar to Baal, at 
Ophrah, and Gideon was commanded b}' the Lord to destroy it. Though 
the sword of Jehovah and of Gideon was more than equal to the complete 
overthrow of the powerful Midianites, still, it was not turned to protect the 
numerous family of Gideon, or to perpetuate his blood. His divine com- 
mission was followed by his disgrace with Drumah. Abimelech, her 
illegitimate son, " a bold, bad man," was permitted to destro}' his father's 
numerous progeny, regarded as his lawful issue, and to influence the people 
of Shechem to anoint himself as their King. It is true, Jotham escaped, 
but not to avenge the death of his brethren. This was left to be done in 
an ignoble wa}^ by a common woman whose name is not recorded. She 
broke the skull of Abimelech b}' throwing a large stone from the battle- 
ments of a tower upon his head. The means emplo3'ed for these great 
results, in themselves, were insignificant and apparently contemptible. 
Such results cannot be traced to merit, nor can such agents be congratulated 
upon enviable distinction. Jotham was a wise man, and understood his 
times. The earliest parable of history was uttered by him, and as a lesson 
of wisdom it cannot be too often repeated. 

When Jotham was told that the men of Shechem had made Abimelech 
King, " he went and stood in the top of the Mount of Gerizim, and lifted 
up his voice, and cried, and said unto them. Hearken unto me, ye men of 
Shechem, that God may hearken unto you : 

" The trees went forth on a time to anoint a King over them ; and they 
said unto the olive-tree, Reign thou over us. But the olive said unto 
them. Should I leave my fatness wherewith by me they honor God and man, 
and go to be promoted over the trees ? And the trees said to the fig-tree. 
Come thou, and reign over us. But the fig-tree said unto them. Should I 
forsake my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to be promoted over the 
trees? Then said the trees unto the vine, Come thou, and reign over us. 
And the vine said unto them. Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God 
and man, and go to be promoted over the trees ? Then said all the trees 
unto the bramble. Come thou, and reign over us. And the bramble said 
unto the trees, If in truth ye anoint me King over you, then come and put 



532 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

3-onr trust in my shadow : and if not, let fire come out of the bramble, and 
devour the cedars of Lebanon." The reader will find the teachings of this 
significant parable in the context of the chapter where it is related.^ 

The choice of the bramble to rule as the chief over the Trees, and the 
signal failure and disgrace of that rule, has many parallels in history. It 
is difficult to say how much the world is truly and directly indebted to 
w^isdom for success, and how much it is deterred from wickedness and folly 
b}^ opposite examples to be avoided. Since evil is permitted, and cannot 
be approved in itself, it becomes a sacred stud}^ of Providence, — that seeks 
to understand its meaning and uses. The exquisite satire of Jotham 
embodies the wisdom of ages, and it served as a bitter rebuke to an 
ungrateful people, whose want of understanding became an instructive 
example for all time. Modern philosophy is not above its teachings. 

However true may be the couplet of Shakespeare, as applied to nature, 

that 

" Gnats are unnoticed wheresoe'er they fly, 
But eagles gazed upon by every eye," 

it cannot with equal truth be applied to humanitj^ Littleness may be 
forced into relations of greatness, and be made notorious by accident, birth, 
wealth, by the whims of a reckless power, or by the voice of a benighted or 
ignorant people. An atom may make the insignificant part of a mountain, 
but of itself, it is too small to be measured, unless combined with masses 
invested with inherent functions and forces. So with men, who have a 
position in society above their merits, and be3'ond their capacit}^ to fill, or 
to honor. Ambition, unaccompanied by talent, and unexalted by virtue, 
sometimes acquires position by deception, and authority by usurpation. 
Royalt}^, by virtue of its legal investiture, is an innocent perpetuity of 
power, though it may be made the exponent of weakness and folly, or the 
instrument of guilt and oppression. These truths were seen and realized 
by Jotham as clearl}^ as by the wisest men of to-da}^ The spiniferous 
nature of the bramble was not changed by being made King over the Trees, 
nor were the leading men of Shechem exempted from the strict accounta- 
bility in their abuse of a sacred trust, — which demanded the faithful exer- 
cise of a discriminating judgment in the selection of a ruler. 

By the varied and combined influences of church and state ; by the 
strategy of statesmanship, and the bloody instrumentalities of war ; by the 
accidents of life, the strifes of party, the struggles of interest and the 
conflicts of prejudice and passion, — George the Second was placed upon the 
throne as the lawful King of Great Britain. In other words, he became 
monarch by virtue of his birth. He was permitted by Providence to 



I Judges, Chap. ix. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 



;33 



represent the sovereignty of the nation, but with no indication of any 
special or personal fitness for the place. Of himself, he was nothing : thus 
demonstrating the possibilit}' that a cipher in societ^^ may have a function 
quite as important as a cipher in arithmetic.^ It is a truth, nevertheless, In 
both cases, that however extensively it may be used, it is m itself nothinr/. 
His personal qualities are differently stated by diiferent writers of his 
period, — according as the}^ may have had motives to conceal his defects, or 
to exaggerate his virtues. " He was in his person," sa3's Smollett, " rather 
lower than the middle size, well shaped, erect, with e^^es remarkably 
prominent, a high nose and a fair complexion." Other writers speak of 
him as a person of insignificant appearance, stiff manners and haughty 
bearing. It is safe to conclude that he was a very ordinary looking man, 
capable of extreme good nature when personally gratified, and of coarse 
ill manners, when opposed or disappointed in small things. " In his dis- 
position," sa3^s Smollett, " he is said to have been hasty, prone to anger, 
especially in his youth, j'et soon appeased ; otherwise mild, moderate and 
humane." Coxe sa3's, " His temper was warm, vehement, and irritable ; 
prone to sudden emotions of anger, and not easily appeased." Lord 
Chesterfield saw much of him, during his reign, and no man better under- 
stood his character. He says, " Everything in hi§ composition was little ; 
and he had all the weaknesses of a little mind, without an}- of the virtues, 
or even the vices, of a great one." * * * "As elector of Hanover he 



1 A writer in the ^^Educational Monthly," 
gives the following interesting paragraph on 
the power of ciphers : — " The enlightened 
man may have a clear understanding of 
thousands, and even millions ; but much 
beyond that he can form no distinct idea. 
A simple example, and one easily solved, 
will illustrate the observation. If all the 
vast bodies of water that cover nearly three- 
fourths of the globe were emptied, drop by 
drop, into one grand reservoir, the whole 
number of drops could be written by the 
two words, " eighteen sectillions," and ex- 
pressed in figures by annexing twenty-four 
ciphers to the number eighteen, (18,000,000, 
000,000,000,000,000,000.) Man might as 
well attempt to explore the bounds of eter- 
nity, as to form any rational idea of the 
units embodied in the expression above ; 
for although the aggregate of drops is indi- 
cated by figures in the space of only one 
inch and a half of ordinary print, yet, if each 
particular drop were noted by a separate 



stroke like the figure 1, it would form a line 
of marks sufficiently long to wind round the 
sun six thousand billions of times ! 

Now, observe, if you please, the marvel- 
lous power or value which the ciphers, insig- 
nificant by themselves, give to the signifi- 
cant figures 18. The young reader will 
be surprised to learn that the use of the 
cipher to determine the value of any partic- 
ular figure, which is now practised by every 
schoolboy, was unknown to the ancients. 
Therefore, among the Greeks and Romans, 
and other nations of antiquity, arithmetical 
operations were exceedingly tedious and 
difRcult. They had to reckon with little 
pebbles, shells, or beads, used as counters, 
to transact the ordinary business of life. 
Even the great Cicero, in his oration for 
Roscius, the actor, in order to express 300, 
000, had to make use of the very awkward 
and cumbrous notation, ccciooo ccciooa 
ccciooo. How very odd this seems — * in 
the year of our Lord mdccclxvi !' (18GG.)" 



534 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

thouglit himself great ; as King of Great Britain only ricli. Avarice, the 
meanest of all passions, was his ruling one ; and I never knew him deviate 
into any generous action." * * * u He ^ell knew that he was gov- 
erned I)}' the Queen, while she lived ; and that she was governed by Sir 
Kobert Walpole : but he kept that secret inviolably, and flattered himself 
that nobody had discovered it." ^ 

He had taken no part in politics, nor had he sympathized with the 
changing cabals in opposition to the policy of his father's reign. He 
claimed to be a Whig, but his convictions of duty were rather the offspring 
of passion, or sentiment, than of judgment. He enjoyed one advantage 
that was not permitted to his father, — he had some knowledge of the 
English language. He boasted of another, — " That he had not one drop of 
blood in his veins which was not English." He knew something of the 
constitution of England, but his knowledge was so limited that statesman- 
ship was as much a mystery to him, as were the undiscovered wonders of 
steam. His professed devotion to England was merely of a verbal nature. 
It was an expedient of royal heartlessness of an inferior mind. He could 
2:)ossibly comprehend in some degree, the sources of his power, if he failed 
to understand the laws of its application. His heart was in Hanover, or in 
the keeping of his mistresses, and though frequently absent, he was seldom 
missed.^ 

AYliat Coxe says of history, when speaking of the official acts of the 
King, is equally applicable to his domestic life as represented hy different 
authors. " Some of the French writers," says he, " call history- la fable 
convenue, and not without some degree of reason : for most histories are 
written either by authors who have been themselves interested in the events 
which they relate, and gloss over the transactions of their own party, or 
are composed by writers who have not access to original papers, know 
little more than common occurrences, and derive their principal information 
from uncertain publications, traditional reports, gazettes and newspapers." 

It has often been said that no writer can give a truthful history of his 
own times. This is a great mistake. It would be safer to assert, — that no 
writer can give an accurate account of an age in which he was not a part, 
and a personal observer. He has only to be honest, and to speak the truth. 

A weak or bad man in power, does not look for strength either in 
principle or wisdom. He relies upon luck or management. He has his 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 972. ish subjects. He went again in '35 and'SG; 

-^ Thackeray says, — " He was always and between the years 1740 and 1755 was 

going back to Hanover. In the year 1729 no less than eight times on the Continent.'* 

he went for two whole years, during which — The Four Georges, p. 367. 
Caroline reigned for him in England, and 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. viii, p. 591. 
he was not in the least missed by his Brit- 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 535 

suppliant tools, who are alwaj's ready to do liis bidding, with motives to 
gain, or position. If weak, and in position by mere luck, he becomes the 
tool of designing men, and governs through them. If able, but dishonest, 
— he uses others as he has occasion, and to the extent of his power. Such 
men are often permitted to inflict evils upon society', not only b}' their acts, 
but by their language, which makes a part of history. Unworthy men are 
frequentl}^ flattered, and good men slandered. The people are sadl}' duped 
in their own generation in regard to the personal character of their public 
servants, and posterity insulted by false assertions and disgraceful com- 
parisons in the records of history. The rule of bad men, however, is 
providentially short, and the rule of weak men is generallj^ relieved b^' the 
common intelligence which prevails in societ}-. Permanentl}', no man, or 
party — can rise above his or its natural level. As water finds its level, so 
goodness permeates moral existence. 

The peculiar character of Grcorge II., may be seen in the events of his 
domestic life. Here the restraints and requisitions of royalty did not 
conceal or control his natural tendencies of mind. He acted himself, and 
without the special surveillance of Parliament, or the formalities imposed 
by ministers, who deem them indispensable in view of traditional decenc}" 
or of constitutional duty. The King is a technical creation, an ideal power, 
a nominal head, surrounded by intelligent keepers. To judge accurately of 
his real importance he must be detached from government and viewed as a 
man. His capacity should be practically tested. He should be studied in 
his strength and wisdom, and in his weaknesses, follies, habits, tastes and 
tendencies. It need not be stated how difficult it is to ascertain the real 
character of a public functionaiy — who is the dispenser of favors whether 
of interest or of titles. A weak King may have able ministers, an igno- 
rant President ma}" have wise counsellors, — but it can hardly be supposed that 
such advisers would readily confess their principal to be either an imbecile 
or a debauche. Such an admission is revolting both to pride and to an 
honest judgment. The truth is suppressed respecting the deficiencies of 
public men that an outward decency may be observed. What a lamenta- 
ble fact, and how humiliating ! It is not even the duty of charity to conceal 
such defects of capacity, or of character, or to excuse them. If there be in 
human nature any such moral elements as integrit}^ of purpose, true 
dignity of character, a religious sense of duty, — they certainly should be 
found in the patriotic statesman whose knowledge of law is public security. 
In no department of science, is ignorance counted a qualification either for 
inquiiy, or active dut}'. On the contrary, — it is invariably deemed an 
insuperable objection, or an obstacle. It is blindness. It cannot see, it 
cannot think, it cannot act. The same is true of incapacity, whether it be 
found in a King, who inherits his position, or in a President who is exalted 
to office by the vote of inconsiderate partisans. In the one case, the theory 



^M HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

is desradins: to hnmanity, inasmuch as it leaves to luck what -wisdom 
assigns to judgment, and in the otlier it strangely seeks to derive strength 
from weakness, and success from failure. 

There is no better illustration of these views to be found in history, than 
in the events which characterize the singular life of Grcorge II. Feeble in 
capacit}-, he was placed in council with the wisest, — to solve the difficult 
l)roblcms of government, and to discuss with the ablest statesmen the rights 
of nations.^ Ignorant of the elements of political econonw, he was sup* 
posed to be the arbiter of knowledge — capable of classifying the precedents 
of the past, and of their just application in practice. Vain and ambitious, 
he sought to achieve the highest results by the lowest means. When the 
welfare of the nation needed the greatest wisdom, he was sure to exhibit 
the weakest judgment. He strained for the ripest fruit, but seized the 
rottenest. The head of the Church, he became the exemplar of the greatest 
sins, and of the most unmitigated follies. The professed admirer of 
woman, but the ready instrument of her dishonor. In him beauty only 
inspired pollution. He was zealous in his loves, but faithless in his 
gallantries. He mistook lust for love, and beastl}^ indulgence for affection. 
He was impatient when forbearance became a virtue, and incredulous when 
belief became a dut}-. Bland and courtlj^ in his manners when gratified, 
but rough and uncouth when opposed. He was both awkward and indecent, 
and was just as likel}^ to mingle his jests and sensual levities with his 
devotions and pra3'ers, — as with his conversational ga^-eties. It is a truth 
littered b}' Shakespeare, that 

"Conceit in weakest bodies, strongest works," 

and well may the question be asked, what greater range can be found in the 
extremes of conceit than in a person of royal birth, clotlied with the highest 
conventional power, and endowed with the lowest and weakest gifts of 
mind. 

If it be a merit in a man that he is capable of selecting a good wife, there 
is no good reason why a prince should not have the benefits of such a 
distinction as well as other men. It is certain that the queen of George 
II., had many qualities of mind far superior to those of her husband.^ She 
was gifted with high aspirations, if not with superior talents. She mani- 
fested great respect for distinguished authors, and frequently sought their 
society that she might enjoy their conversation. " The queen had," sa^'s 
Cooke, " doubtless, many of the weaknesses of a learned lady. We cannot 
notice, without a smile and a suspicion of affectation, her great affection for 
metaphysics ; nor can all the eulogy- of Doctor Clarke divert the ridicule 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 973, ? Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 973. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 537 

"Which attached to her when she assumed the place of arljitress in the con- 
test which was carried on between that profound divine and Leibnitz. But 
whatever might have been her skill in the abstract sciences, and however 
much or little she was capable of judging the merits of Sir Isaac Newton's 
discoveries, and the influence they had upon the evidences of Christianit}', 
her judgment upon the more practical points of government was generally 
sound, and uniforml}' moderate." ^ 

The queen's influence over her husband, at the time of the death of 
George I., was known only to a few. No ambitious partisan, not even 
Corapton, with all his opportunities for observation, sought her aid. She 
was entirel}' overlooked by the Tories.^ They courted Mrs. Howard. 
Metaphj'sical studies were professedly- the Queen's delight. If she did not 
comprehend their subtle teachings, she certainl}^ manifested a commendable 
pride in a just appreciation of their importance. It was probably the skill 
and learning she possessed that gave her the power 

"to distinguish and divide 
A hair 'twixt south and south-west side," 

and to see so much merit in a faithless husband, and greatness in a stupid 
king. She knew better than any one, what he w^as. Whatever she had to 
sa3' in his favor must have been dictated b}' an unscrupulous pride, and 
with but very little regard to truth. AYith her knowledge of his treacherous 
and grovelling heart ; of his immodest impudence and unredeeming fickle- 
ness, — it excites amazement that she could honor him even with a nominal 
courtes3^ Yet, in some respects, the}' were alike. They had the same 
ungovernable passions, the same insensibilit}' to the decencies of life. She 
discovered a sensible judgment, however, in the choice of companions 
distinguished for their high character and learning, while he acquired a 
most unenviable reputation by a shameless companionship with unprinci- 
pled women. As parents, they sinned alike, in their unnatural and 
revolting aversion to their first born, Frederic, the Prince of Wales. If 
royalty can survive such trials and stand, it must be by the grace of God, and 
the charitable spirit of a loyal people. If society may have continued 
existence while royalty indulges in every species of violation of those 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 126. and Queen Anne hj her women-fiivorites. 

2 Lord Hervey says, " The King himself His father, lie added, had been by any body 
was so httle sensible of this being the case, that could get at him. With a significant, 
tiiat one day enumerating the people who satisfied, triumphant air, he turned about, 
had governed his country in other reigns, lie smiling, to one of his auditors, and asked 
said Charles I. was governed by his wife; him, 'And who do they say governs now?'** 
Charles II. by his mistresses ; King James — Memoirs, Vol. i, p. 73. 

by Ins priests ; King William by his men, 



538 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

domestic rights and privileges Tvliicli constitute the moral, religious and 
social being of the soul, — it remains to be seen in what degree the nation 
is dependent on the agenc}' of a king whose providential relations so far 
overshadow his personal insignificance, as to make comparison painful. 

It was remarked b}^ Lord Chesterfield, that the King " was thought to 
have a great opinion of his own abilities ; but, on the contrary- , I am very 
sure that he had a great distrust of them in matters of state." This view is 
reasonable. Though a man may conceal his ignorance from others, he 
cannot utterly conceal it from himself. A long experience of what he can, 
and cannot do must practically remove, in a large degree — the illusory 
conceit of the most inordinate self complacency. 

When the death of his ro3'al father was announced to George II., by 
Walpole, he was utterly incredulous. He was in no mood to be disturbed, 
or to be decent to the great ex-minister. It was certain he had no foresight 
of the gi'eatness about to be thrust upon him, nor was he prepared to 
comprehend the magnitude of the duties imposed upon him by the British 
Constitution. That it was difficult for him to realize the fact, that the 
King was dead, and that he was to be his successor, — should surprise no 
one. He probably had instinctive sense enough to know his unfitness for 
the obligations and duties of the crown, and in some degree, to see the 
extent of his own ignorance. His first acts were in keeping with his 
feebleness. He saw government only as a nominal business, where the 
prerogatives of royalty were above the prerogatives of mind, and where the 
companions of his social life were presupposed to be equal to the high duties 
of state. It was not to be expected that he would trust his father's 
ministers. He had frequently characterized them as capable of every 
possible obliquity. He called Sir Robert Walpole " a great rogue and 
rascal," and his brother Horace, " a dirty buffoon and scoundrel." The 
Duke of Newcastle was complimented as " an impertinent fool," and Lord 
Townshend, as '^ a choleric blockhead." These had been the governbrs of 
the kingdom. 

The news of the death of George I., was sent by express to Sir Kobert 
W^alpole. He was dining at Chelsea, when it arrived, and he left without 
delay for Richmond, where the Prince of Wales then was, to announce the 
event and to receive his commands. No man knew better just what to sa}^ 
to a Prince, who had so often denounced him, than Sir Robert Walpole. 
His brevity discovered no disposition to conciliate prejudice by multiplving 
words. " I am come to acquaint 3'our Majesty with the death of your 
father," was all he said. " The King," to use the language of Lord Hervej', 
" seemed extremely surprised, but not enough to forget his resentment to 
Sir Robert one moment ; neither his confusion nor his joy at this great 
change, nor the benevolence so naturally felt by almost everj^body towards 
the messenger of such good news, softened his voice or his countenance in 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 639 

one word or look."^ Whatever questions Sir Robert asked him with regard 
to the council being summoned, his being proclaimed, or other things nec- 
essar}- immediately- to be provided, the King gave him no other answer than 
— " Go to Chiswick and take your directions from Sir Spencer Compton."^ 
Though at this time, Speaker of the House of Commons, Treasurer to the 
Prince, and Paymaster to the Army, yet, Sir Spencer was without qualiti- 
cation for any important position in the government. He had long been in 
office, and was useful inostlj- in his knowledge of forms and precedents. 
He could execute according to what had been done, but he could not 
originate or advise. He was a polite subordinate, and was all deference to 
his official superiors. " His onl}- pleasures," sa^'s Lord Herve}', " were 
money and eating ; his only knowledge forms and precedents ; and his only 
insinuation bows and smiles." Sir Robert was at no loss how to approach 
such a man. He knew his weakness and incapacity, and while he said 
nothing to embarrass his sense of inferiority, he omitted nothing that could 
be justly recited to his advantage. Sir Robert was conscious of his own 
strength comparatively, and could well afford to indulge in unreserved 
candor and magnanimit}'. No man better understood the needs of 
the government, or the wants of the nation. He not only humbly acqui- 
esced in the change, but he asked the protection of a man who had not even 
the abilit}- to protect himself, or to save the king without the aid of a 
statesman. Their consciousness of inferiorit}', and the active influence of 
the Queen, — led both the King and Sir Spencer to accept the counsel of Sir 
Robert. He secured power bj- graciously surrendering it. More than any 
one, it was the Queen who had placed Sir Robert as a competitor against 
Sir Spencer. The King's method of deciding the question of choice was 
amusingh' primitive. He required both to make him a speech, and it need 
hardly be said that the comparison was fatal to Corapton, who labored 
under the double disadvantage of obvious inferiorit}-, and of having treated 
the Queen with thoughtless disrespect. Both had been consistent Whigs, 
though Compton never aspired to be a leader of party. The standard of 
judgment of the King was personal. If left entirelj^ to himself his 



1 To use the amusing language of Thack- Sir Robert Walpole,' said the messenger. 

eray, *' The master always slept after his The awakened sleeper hated Sir Robert 

dinner — and woe to the person Avho inter- "Walpole. ' I have the honor to announce 

rupted him ! Nevertheless, our stout friend to your majesty that your royal father, King 

of the iack-boots (Sir Robert Walpole) put George I., died at Osnaburg on Saturday 

the aifrightcd ladies aside, opened the last, the 10th instant.' ' Dat is one hig 

forbidden door of the bedroom, and knelt lieV roared out his sacred majesty, King 

down in his jack-boots. He on the bed George H. : but Sir Robert stated the fact." 

started up, and with many oaths and a — Four Georges^ p. 340. 
strong Gernian accent asked who was there 2 Hervey's Memoirs, George II., Vol. i, 

and who dared to disturb him?' ' I am p. 31. 



540 HISTORY OF DExMOCRACT. 

considerations of choice were often contemptible. He was incapable of 
comprehending that men might differ in opinion with pure and honorable 
motives, and he did not hesitate to use opprobrious language to all who 
opposed him.^ Sir Robert Walpole was well acquainted with his temper 
and peculiarities, and led him to conclusions by influences adapted to his 
capacity and weaknesses. He relied mostly upon the Queen. Finding her 
indisposed, when about to be absent a few days, he seriously warned her 
against personal imprudence, blending practical advice with important 
truths which have become facts of history. This interview discloses so 
much of the disjointed, unthoughtful and un-law-like condition to w^hicli 
royalt}' and incompetent government is often liable, that its full relation, as 
given by Lord Hervej^, is placed in the appendix.'-^ 

In studying the long reign of an obstinate and feeble monarch, the 
question naturally arises, how it was possible to administer the government 
and protect the nation. The King was too ignorant to be a leader, too 
obstinate to be a follower. He had the prerogatives of appointment, it is 
true, and was surrounded by statesmen of ability and experience, who were 
ready to serve him in council. But with the best materials for a cabinet, a 
wise selection is difficult where there is no judgment, and action is still 
more difficult where knowledge is wanting. Political organizations, when 
not well guarded against the cabals of ambition, the accidents of time, tlie 
prejudices of the weak, and the designs of the wicked, are not likely to be 
permanent, unless controlled by some law, or principle, inherent or tra- 
ditional. Under such circumstances success may be reached by good luck, 
but not by systematic effort. A short period of success, of a year or two, 
or of three or four years, would hardly be noticed by a historian, as worthy 
of remark. Thirty j^ears, or a whole generation, however, presents a 
subject entitled to consideration. 

It is to be remembered that the predominance of individuality is barbar- 
ism ; the predominance of classes is feudalism, — and the transition from 
feudalism to a higher civilization, is progress towards constitutional 
government. 

In speaking of the rights and institutions of feudalism, Guizot says, — 
'' They had no reality, no guarantee." He continues, " If one is asked, 
what is meant by a guarantee, a political guarantee, one is led to perceive 
that its fundamental character is the constant presence, in the midst of the 



1 As Lord Hervey repeated the names of Prendergast, ^^ an Irish hiackhead ; '* T>ord 

those who opposed him, the King tacked Tyrconnel, a '■'•puppy that never votes twice 

the following remarks to them: — Lord together on the same side."-- Memoirs, Yoi.. 

James Cavendish, "a /ooZ." Lord Charles i, p. 197. Puppy and fool were favorite 

Cavendish, " he is half mad f Sir William words with the King. 

Lowther ,"« whimsical fdlow ; " Sir Thomas ^ gee Appendix, F. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 541 

society, of a will, of a power disposed and in a condition to impose a law 
upon particular wills and powers, to make them observe the common rule, 
and respect the general right. 

" There are only two systems of political guarantees possible : it is either 
necessary there should be a particular will and power so superior to all 
others, that none should be able to resist it, and that all should be compelled 
to submit to it a^ soon as it interferes ; or else that there should be a public 
will and power, which is the result of agreement, of the development of 
particular wills, and which, once gone forth from them, is in a condition to 
impose itself upon, and to make itself respected equally by all. Such are 
the two possible systems of political guarantees : the despotism of one or of 
a bodj^, or free government." ^ 

This anal3^sis of Guizot, clearly states the process leading to despotism, 
or freedom, to a certain extent, but not fall3% This control, whether it 
leads to despotism, or freedom, is always according to an acknowledged 
standard of principle, in the administration of government. In other words, 
it is the manner of meeting the wants of the people. There are so many 
different ways of doing the same thing, it becomes a matter of no small 
interest to understand the origin of these ways, and of their permanent 
tendencies. 

In private life, men have established habits in their social, or domestic 
sphere, which practically characterize their intercourse with others. They 
are naturally kind and generous friends, thoughtful neighbors, considerate 
citizens, exemplary husbands and dutiful fathers, — or the contrary of all 
these. Or, they may not be the contrary of these, aud 3'et, by habit or 
constitution, they may possess these qualities so indifferently, as to be 
counted as without, or beyond the influence of their refining tendencies. 
When men act as men, among men, they are permanently divided into 
classes. Not formally, but conventionally, by the voice of society. Men 
have a common repute, and by this they find their position, — and almost 
without words are estimated and classed. 

So it is in a great degree with public men and political parties. Public 
questions, or measures, are discussed and decided according to certain great 
principles which constitute the policy of a nation, or by the habits of a 
party. Each political partj^ not only claims to have a policy of its own, 
that is permanent and consistent, but it has a way of doing things which 
becomes a habit. Whether always consistent, or not, it may be said that 
each part}^ has a two-fold character of its own. Not so much a character 
that is projected in outline by systematic foresight as by peculiar innate 
qualities of mind to be found in the natural constitutions of men, which 



^ Hist, of Civilization in Europe, Vol. i, p. 76. 



542 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

influence them to act with a particular party in preference to another. To 
a certain degree this preference is permanent. Its permanency ma}' be 
founded on a just discrimination of tlie present and prospective wants of 
societ}^ or upon a basis that recognizes no interest but of self, no privilege 
but that of control. Its permanency ma}- be, and often is, aided by preju- 
dice, interest, or fashion, — or by traditionary or conventional pride, the 
bias of blood or family. In addition to all these perpetuating influences, — 
there are constitutional tendencies, in diflferent minds, impelling forward to 
progressive action, or turning back, evincing a spirit of conservatism, an 
extreme reluctance to change, or to favor natural growth. Above all these 
direct and indirect causes, are to be found classes of men, of commanding 
talents, who are able to stud}^ society', the wants of men and nations, and 
to provide prudently and efficientl}^ for the general welfare. They have 
their equals who cooperate, and their honest pupils who follow their lead. 
They have their inferiors, who trust them with implicit confidence, and who 
are willing to follow them without inquiry and without knowledge. They 
have their antagonists in men of opposite qualities, who believe in dictation 
and not in duty, in coercion and not in truth. These have their submissive 
tools, who are pledged for an interest, and their passive dupes who are 
willing to follow any lead in preference to doubting the fallacies of the 
past. Their knowledge of justice is not suflScient to control their instinc- 
tive fears of loss and danger. To them foresight is experiment. 

In these opposing classes of men, may be seen, in all the variety of 
capacity, interest and motive, to-day and all time, — the Tory and Demo- 
cratic parties. To a certain extent, each party has its servile adherents, 
and unprincipled managers. "When conjoined with principle and progress, 
— the conditions of royalty, hereditary distinction and wealth, — may be 
counted as providential blessings. But, when linked with incapacity, 
dishonesty and inordinate ambition, they entail the saddest calamities upon 
a nation. Still, with all these varying sources of uncertaint}-, — there are 
certain features in political parties which ever remain unchanged. They 
make the likeness, the physiognom}-, which in all ages is recognized as true 
to nature. The Tory is a representative man. So is the Democrat. Each 
is led by his instincts to find his fellows in sj^mpathj^ They cluster 
together in homogeneous action as particles of matter cr3'stallize with 
chemical aflSnity, and almost with a precision of conscious intelligence. 

As individuals have habits of thought and action, so have parties. A 
party of principle, but without statesmanship, is often made safe by its 
inherited habits. A party destitute of principle, is made more dangerous 
by the aid of talents, and if left to flounder in ignorance, and under the 
weight of an infamous past, it is sunk still deeper by the inevitable pressure 
of its habits. The future course of such a party cannot be predicted. If it 
were not kindly floated by an all-wise Providence be^'ond the confines of 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 543 

existence, and deprived of its means to do harm by unforeseen accidents 
and combinations of judgment, — it would establish upon poor humanity' 
the perpetual chaos of chance, and the unlimited woe of permanent evil. 

Though the language ma}' seem extravagant, still, it is full}- warranted 
by the facts of history, that the habits of the democratic party are safer for 
the people to follow, even when guided by moderate abilit}', — than Tory- 
ism possibly can be when administered by its most illustrious leaders. In 
conflicts of principle, democracy always triumphs. Toryism never. This 
is an ultimate result, the triumph of truth, — through whose indestructible 
crucible all human judgments are made to pass, and by whose agenc}^ the 
abortive fruits of all error are forever destroyed. 

It is true, the party of principle always has the irresistible advantage of 
fundamental laws. What possession is in law, this is in moral conflict. 
When the public mind is quiet, and society is apparently stationar}- ; when 
philosophy and religion are temporarily exempted from the turmoils of 
speculative discussion, and government from debate ; when men meet men 
with kindred motives, hopes and aspirations, and see no particular need for 
eminent talents, nor an}' particular evidence of their existence, even if 
needed, then the habits of such a party become important, — and public 
affairs are almost unconsciously carried forward by the latent force of 
eternal principle, and b}' the democratic instincts of men which need no 
training. In such a period, an inferior head of a nation, when aided b}^ 
able counsellors, is permitted to have a nominal lead, though nothing above 
a common regenc}'. He is protected against the wiles of unscrupulous 
opponents, and saved from the risks of ignorance and ambitious friends. 

When George II. ascended the throne, he was conscious of no strength, 
except in royalty and in the democratic part}^ It was natural that his first 
step should be dictated by impressions of the ro3'al prerogative, to select 
advisers in his own way, and according to his own impulses. His personal 
preferences were based on social predilections, with no comprehensive sense 
of duty to the public, and with no practical judgment as to the means to be 
employed in the administration of government. His first idea of a premier, 
was, doubtless, that he should be strictly subordinated to the crown. With 
him, statesmanship was but the knowledge of forms, the filling up of blanks 
spaced b}- custom and usage. It was viewed as a clerical dut3^ He soon 
found his error by comparison of men and b}^ the aid of the Queen, and 
the appointment of Walpole instead of Compton, was seen to be a necessit}'. 
On the same principle that the Whigs were counted his friends, the Tories 
were declared to be his enemies. Neither his attachment to the one, nor his 
aversion to the other, became a subject either of doubt or inquir3\ Thought 
and action were simultaneous. 

While he was full}'' impressed with the importance of the democratic 
faith, though not versed in the philosophy of democratic truths, he was 



544 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

equally prepared to repel and reject all counsel from the Tories. It must 
be borne in mind, that this was an uneducated period. The people did not 
fully comprehend the nature of government, nor the sources of its growth 
and strength. The nobilit}^ put forward their sons to declaim against an 
administration the}' did not favor, and the universities seemed to be but 
little more than schools to prepare young men for verbal conflict, and with 
but little regard to principles. 

Party appeals to young men are not without precedent, and the example 
is not without followers in all ages. The motives which lead to such 
appeals are often questionable, inasmuch as the}^ are generally connected 
with party suffrage. To connect the privileges of suffrage, on great ques- 
tions, with inexperience or ignorance, and with special views to mere part}', 
under any circumstances, is, to say the least, — an indirect attack upon the 
public safety. In speaking of this period, Cooke sa^'s, — " The Craftsman, 
and its fellow-laborers in the same cause, teemed with invectives against a 
ministry which had its power in the venal baseness of its supporters ; the 
people were excited b}' splendid declamation, which seemed to breathe the 
spirit of the citizens of the ancient republics. The youthful scions 
of noble houses were taken from the universities and poured into the 
House of Commons, their minds yet occupied with the deeds of the patriots 
who live in the writings of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Liv}'.^ Their fresh 
enthusiasm and real indignation lent the charm of sincerity and patriotism 
to the tactics of a faction. If many of these young declaimers w^anted 
talent, none were deficient in energy and good will." ^ 

Youth is impulsive, impatient and confident. The mind is eager for 
action with a body full of natural energ}', and it has but little means either 
to know itself, or to correct itself — by introspection. Baxter, in his 
personal narrative, enumerates seven opinions which he adopted in early 
life as incontestably true, which his maturer judgment found to be wrong. 
There are many such examples. Having but little or no experience in 
matters concerning the nature of man, or the organization of society, the 
3'oung man surrenders himself to be controlled b}' his immature pride, or 
unschooled opinions. He becomes a power, if not sufficient for itself, it 



l*'They were made to believe," says themselves, which when they had done, and 

Speaker Onslow, " they were saving their manifested by their after actings what their 

country from destruction, and that they former motives had been, many of their 

only could do it. But they were the tools young followers soon discerned the cheat 

and instruments of those who meant no such and showed their resentment accordingly." 

thing, and who were in opposition only — S'peaker Onslow's rtmarhs on the Opposi- 

because they had not the power, and made tion, Coxe, Vol. ii, p. 5G^. 

use of the virtue of these younger and bet- 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 134. 
ter men to the quicker obtaining of it for 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 5^5 

answers a subordinate purpose in the hands of ambitious partisans. The 
assumption of duties peculiar to manhood, and the gratification of being 
distinguished as a part of the community in which he lives, for the first 
time, are sources of pardonable weaknesses. Parents and guardians, 
friends and the family, the circumstances of interest and the hopes of 
distinction, — generally make up the circle of causes which carries forward 
and characterizes the mind of the j'oung man when he is asked to adopt 
certain opinions, and to oppose others. Besides, there is an attractiveness 
in the freshness and ardor of young men, — when put forward with avowed 
motives of patriotism. The}' see no difficulty, they fear no error. It is 
not the father alone, in the harness of party, that swa3's the young man to 
turn his untried energies to public affairs. The proud mother, looking for- 
ward with the bright promises of hope ; the loving sister, and the adored 
betrothed, — inspire him with happy visions of future greatness. He finds 
himself agreeabl}' moved bj' an unlimited ambition, and nothing but hard 
experience will convince him that his enthusiasm is not judgment, and that 
his opinions are not knowledge. 

The reign of George II. was in an age of corruption. " The accusation 
of wholesale corruption," says Cooke, " is that which is always pressed the 
hardest upon Walpole and his administration ; it may be palliated, but it 
cannot be denied, it maj' be excused, but it cannot be defended.^ * * * 
" It was not the minister who corrupted the age ; his crime was that he 
pandered to the prevailing depravity. It is an observation, startling but 
true, that nothing but corruption — extensive, almost universal corruption, 
could have now preserved the Whig part}'. Theirs was the triumph of 
influence over prerogative — of money over power." ^ 

The same author thus speaks of a bill against bribery : " The Bribery 
bill, which became a law in the session of 1729, is one of those invaluable 
measures which have resulted from party contests. It was introduced by 
the Tories, to put an end to the expensive contests which had recently 
shaken their dominion, even over their own boroughs ; its title was highly 
popular, and Walpole did not attempt to resist it. When, however, the 
opposition found that they had failed in one of their objects, that of 
entrapping the minister into resistance to a popular measure, they became 
less eager in their promotion of the bill. Many of the Tories thought its 
provisions inconvenient, and so careless were they of its fate, that, when it 



1 The accounts for the year 1727, con- the Pulteneys and the other opposition 

tained an item of £250,000 for secret-service leaders, and was made the subject of inces- 

money; an immense sum according to tlie sant motions in the Commons." — IIisi4.o£ 

amount of the revenue of those days. PaHy^ Vol. ii, p. 134. 
This was fastened upon with eagerness by 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 138.. 

35 



646 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

was returned from the Lords, it was received in a very thin house, and 
passed only by a majority of two." ^ 

Whatever may be said of the corruptions of this period ; of the incapacity 
of the King, of the policy of Walpole, or of the party schemes of Boling- 
broke, and of the Tories, there is one instructive fact upon record, 
questioned by no one, that is entitled to particular notice. It is a fact that 
clearly indicates not only a general reverence for the British Constitution, 
but an element of national permanency, a practical loyalty in the people 
and in their chosen servants, — that will in some degree account for the 
uninterrupted prosperity of the long reign of George II. This fact is the 
long continuance of Arthur Onslow, as the Speaker of the House of 
Commons. He was first elected in 1727, and resigned in 1761. More than 
any man, he was the representative of democracy during his period of 
service. He was not a politician, in the ordinary sense of the term, but a 
consistent statesman, of accurate knowledge and sterling integrity. He 
was true to his party, because his party was true to principle. Not because 
his part}^ was always right, but much nearer right than an}- other part^'. 
One who knew him well, both as a pupil and a friend,^ thus speaks of him : 
" Superadded to his great and accurate knowledge of the history of this 
country', and of the minuter forms and proceedings of parliament, the 
distinguishing feature of Mr. Onslow's public character, was a regard and 
Teneration for the British Constitution, as it was declared and established 
at the Revolution. This was the favorite topic of his discourse ; and it 
appeared from the uniform tenor of his conduct through life, that to 
maintain this pure and inviolate was the object at which he always aimed. 
In private life, though he held the office of Speaker above three and thirty 
years, and during part of that time enjo3^ed the lucrative employment of 
treasurer of tlie nav}- ; it is an anecdote perfectlj- well known that, on bis 
quitting the chair in 1761, his income from his private fortune which had 
always been inconsiderable, was rather less than it had been in 1727, when 
he was first elected to it." 

The influence of one man, in official position by example, when respected, 
can hardly be over-estimated. When he combines ambition with duty, 
duty with modest}^, modesty with courage, and knowledge with activity, 
and courage with integrity, — he disarms envy and commands the respect 
and confidence of all classes. He becomes useful to all, and does not seek 
to obtrude his views or plans upon any. All want him alike, all need him 
-alike, though all are not prepared alike to follow him as a leader. The 
selfish partisan has occasion for his executive ability, but fears his counsel 
in the disclosure of motives. It required a Solon to declare a clemocracj', 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. I r, p. H9. Pari. 2 Mr. Ilatsell. 
>l)eb.. Vol. viii — Tindall. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 547 

but a Publicola to illustrate and regulate it.^ AYhat Solon desired and did 
not live to see, Publicola acted and enjo^'ed. Onslow had the ability to 
appreciate what a Solon had the genius to conceive, and to admire and 
honor what Publicola had the capacity and disposition to practise. He 
became the central point where differences were united without respect to 
partj", or polic}^, and where government, however administered, demanded 
a pivot upon which to turn its machiner}*. Onslow, as a democrat, had the 
powerful advantage of principle, which opponents often claim, but seldom 
practise. 

When great minds are placed outside of the governmental circle of 
power, and find their antagonists in a similar position, but without official 
influence, the government is then usually administered by a class of men 
who may be said to be the followers of a theory rather than its active 
leaders. Talent takes a stand above practice, and practice becomes the 
interpreted rule of theor3\ Party controversy ceases for a time, to give 
rest and recuperation to disputative mind, and relief and information to 
society'. In such periods of practice, without active thought, — party 
importance is either disclaimed b}' the disappointed, or misrepresented by 
the unsuccessful. When democrats lose sight of democratic principles, and 
apparent^ succeed without a recognition of their importance ; when Tories 
profess to find no part}- triumph in the administration of the government 
conducted by their opponents, and surrender monarchy in favor of an 
aristocracy,^ — then it is, that we may look for Utopian dreams of millennial 
harmony, and of renewed confidence in no-part}^ measures. 

The Tories despaired of sharing power with the democrats, at an earl}' 
period of this reign, and the}^ looked to the people to control the changing 
elements of popular influence. The Whigs were too successful to be 
strongly united, and the Tories were too weak to succeed without coalition. 
Walpole was long the central power of the government, and while he 
enjoyed the unreserved confidence of the crown, he had but little diflSculty 
in adjusting changes made necessary by personal jealousy or animosities, 
disappointed ambition, or the disruptions of party. On the one hand, he 
had to contend with powerful opponents, formerly of his own faith, who 
were too honest or too capable to be his compeers, or too proud to be his 
followers : such as Pultenej^, Pitt and Townshend. On the other, — vvith 
the master spirits of Toryism, who scrupled at no expedient, paused at no 
political crime, or blushed at no inconsistency however absurd : suck 
men as Bolingbroke, Wyndham and Lyttleton. He had not onl}" the cares 
of the government upon his shoulders, but he had to meet and humor the 
whimsicalities of a weak and eccentric King, and to watch and foil compet- 
ing partisans, and the dark and uncertain moves of gambling opponents. 



1 See Plutarch— Solon and Publicola. 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 139. 



54:8 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Old part}' questions were renewed under amusing changes of championship, 
and party men were reminded of their mutability in political warfare. 
The same bold advancing, and backing, and dividing, and twisting and 
untwisting, among parties, as ever, filled the political record. 

The Tories, in contradiction to their own record of practice, moved for a 
reduction of the Army.^ Sir George Barclay opposed the ministerial 
estimate upon the broad principle, " that the keeping of a standing army 
in time of peace was a thing unknown to the laws and constitntion of Great 
Britain, and destructive to the libert}^ of her subjects." ^ Shippen, with 
singular assurance, not only sustained these views, but showed a dispo- 
sition to divert the public mind from the facts of history, and claimed that 
a standing army was one of the fruits of the revolution in the reign of 
William. The Tory claimed for his part}- the merits of democracy. " I 
own," he said, " that it gives me great concern to see gentlemen who have 
always valued themselves upon treading in the footsteps of those Avho 
brought about the revolution, act a part so inconsistent with their ancestors, 
by voting for this question. I know a set of men, under a different denomi- 
nation, who have alwa^^s been more moderate in their pretensions but more 
steady in their adherence to these principles. I am not at all inclined to 
revive any party distinctions, but, I will venture to say, sir, that, let any 
man compare the conduct of some gentlemen, who have affected to pass for 
AVhigs, with that of gentlemen who have always been looked upon as 
Tories, he shall find the latter acting a part most consistent with the 
revolution principles. He will find them opposing the crown in every 
encroachment upon the people, and in every infringement upon the claim 
of right. He will never find them complimenting the crown at the expense 
of the people, when in post, nor distressing it b}" opposing any reasonable 
measure when out. Can some gentlemen, sir, who now affect to call 
themselves Whigs, boast of such an uniformity of conduct? can they say 
that times and circumstances never influenced the measures they pursued ; or 
that, when they were in posts, they always acted in consequence of the 
principles they professed when they were out? Sir, I believe I have sat 



1 The motion was, "That the number Cooke says, " Sixt}' years anterior to tliis 

pf effective men to be provided for guards and time, the existence of a standing army 

garrisons in Great Britian, and for Guernsey would have been fatal to the hberties of the 

and Jersey, for the year 1738, be, (including country. The whole nation which sulkily 

one thoiisand eight hundred and fifteen permitted Charles II. to maintain about 

invalids, and five hundred and fifty-five five thousand guards, would have risen in a 

men, which the six independent companies mass to resist an attempt to raise his levies 

consist of, for the service of the Highlands) to seventeen thousand." — Hist, of Party ^ 

seventeen thousand seven hundred and four Vol. ii, p. 254. At the end of King Wil- 

men ; commission and non-commission olR- liam's reign, the army was seven thousand, 
cers included."— ParZ. Del. Vol. x, p. 375. 2 Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 376. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 549 

long enough in this house to convince gentlemen, if there were occasion, of 
very great hiconsistencies in certain characters." 

*' There was much truth," says Cooke, " in the criminations thrown out 
against many of the Whigs, but there was something ludicrous in the 
claim put forward on behalf of the Tories." 

Walpole had recommended that a standing arm}' was necessary to main- 
tain the present familj' upon the throne. This was a great mistake. It 
w^as in contradiction to Democracy.^ Of this truth he was evidently per- 
suaded, for he defended the measure with confessed reluctance. His party 
thrusts at Shippen were just, but they w^ere inapplicable to the subject. 
His concluding reason, that " we must look upon it as an evil which we 
are obliged to submit to, for the sake of avoiding a greater," was another 
mistake. It was a Tor}' remedy for a Tory evil. A Whig had no greater 
power to defend a standing army than a Tory. Not so much, for while the 
former was speaking against the democratic doctrines of the Whigs, — he 
had no choice but to repeat what had always been denounced as the errors 
of the Tories. A truth is not changed because it is uttered by its enemy 
any more than an error becomes a truth because it is spoken by an 
honest man. A standing army is a standing threat. It is neither calcu- 
lated to conciliate bad men, nor to influence good men. It naturally orig- 
inates, or increases, the discontent of both. Another Tory fallacy was 
adopted by the Secretary at War, Sir William Yonge. He mistook dis- 
content for insolence, protest for sedition. He says, — " Tlie insolence of 
the people in all parts of the kingdom is risen to a height that makes it 
unsafe for the civil magistrate to do his duty without the assistance of the 
military power." ^ The Duke of Newcastle reviewed tlie state of the 
nation, and foreign relations, and considered the chances of peace and 
war, — and favored a standing army upon the possibilities of the future. 
He was well answered by Lord Mansfield, and in democratic language. 
*' I think," said he, " all the dangers he has mentioned, either abroad or at 
home, depend upon may he's which must always subsist." * * * "It 
is not possibilities, my lords, it is not probabilities, nothing but certain, 
immediate danger, ought to induce us to agree to the keeping up of such 
a numerous army as we have at present." * * * " These considera- 
tions, my lords, show, that if the noble lord's may he's should become shall 
he's, a reduction of our army could be no great disadvantage to us, nor 
could it enhance any danger we can be under from invasions or insurrec- 
tions." ^ 



1 "There was at this time," says Cooke, abused." — Tlist. of Party ^ Vol. ii, p. 255. 
** no cause for national ahirni at the power ^ Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 431. 
of tlie crown, nor any possibility that the 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 512. 
pailitary force now asked for would be 



550 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

There is much good sense in the speech of Lord Bathurst, in the House 
of Lords. He favored a militia system as more efficient than a standing 
arm}-, and quoted the experience of the Grecians against Persia, and of the 
Romans against Carthage, in confirmation of his vievvs.^ "It is a strange 
doctrine in a free country, m}^ lords," said he, "to sa}^, that because some 
laws have been enacted, or some things have been done, that are disagree- 
able to the people, therefore a numerous standing arni}^ ought to be kept 
up, in order to compel the people to submit. This is a doctrine, my lords, 
I shall never approve of: even as to the drinking of gin, if it could be no 
way prevented but by a standing army, I should be for leaving the people 
in possession of that darling liquor, rather than attempt to bereave them of 
it by such means ; for in that case, an army that could take gin from them, 
could likewise, and probably would, take their liberties from them also." 
* * " Do not let us make the people slaves, in order to make them sober ; 
do not let us ruin the people, for the sake of compelling them to pa}' their 
taxes." ^ Pulteney, and Sir John Barnard opposed the bill with much abil- 
ity. The former declared it to be " as impracticable to dragoon people into 
moralit}', as into religion ; nor can a standing arm}' make a free people 
quiet subjects, any other way than by making them humble slaves." ^ Sir 
John expressed his fears that it was intended to make a Standing Army a 
part of the constitution. He practically illustrated the subject in lan- 
guage that is worthy to be remembered : — 

" As 1 have opportunities of knowing somewhat of the country of Eng- 
land in general, I can venture to say, that a constable at the head of his 
posse, by a warrant from a justice of the peace who is beloved, can do more 
than a colonel at the head of his regiment. I say. Sir, a justice of the 
peace who is beloved ; for I am far from thinking that all of them are 
beloved ; though I believe they generally are so, when it is known they 
are not influenced by any guidance from within these walls." ^ These few 
words explain the true principles of government. This debate is an 
instructive one, inasmuch as it clearly shows how uncertain the Tories are 
when they oppose a power only because they cannot control it, and how 
ready they are to stultify themselves when they deem it expedient to sur- 
render the principles of their own party. In saying this, it would be an 
injustice not to mention an exception in Sir John Hynede Cotton, who was 
not only a Tory, but a Jacobite. His just and candid allusions to the 
records of democracy are highly commendable. When the Tories attacked 
the minister, denying his party the right to call themselves Whigs, he not 
only acknowledged their true record, but pointed out the inconsistency of 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 547. 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 435. 

•^ Ibid, p. 54U. 4 I'arL Deb., Vol. x, p. 434. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 551 

the administration in its course. He said, " Sir, I have had the honor and 
happiness to be intimate with many gentlemen of that denomination. I 
likewise, Sir, have read the writings of many authors who have espoused 
these principles ; I have sat in this house during some of the most material 
debates that have happened betwixt them and the Tories ; and, sir, I can 
declare from my own experience, that 1 never knew one who acted on true 
Whig principles, vote for a standing arm}^ in time of peace. What the 
I)rinciples of the Whigs in former days were, sir, I can only learn from 
reading or information ; but, sir, I have heard of Whigs who were against 
all unlimited votes of credit ; I have heard of Whigs who looked upon oj)en 
corruption as the greatest curse that could befall any nation : I have heard 
of Whigs who esteemed the liberty of the press to be the most valuable 
privilege of a free people, and triennial parliaments the greatest bulwark 
of their liberties : and, sir, I have heard of a Whig administration who have 
resented injuries done to the trade of the nation, and who have revenged 
insults offered to the British flag. These, sir, are the principles, if I am 
rightl^^ informed, that once characterized the true Whigs. Let gentlemen 
apply these characters to their present conduct, and then, laying their 
hands on their hearts, let them ask of themselves. If the}' are Whigs." 

The Whigs adopted Tory measures without acknowledging Tor}^ princi- 
ples, and the Tories defended Whig principles but opposed the Whig party. 
Walpole resorted to Tor}' expedients to sustain a Whig administration, 
and Shippen claimed for the Tories a more consistent democratic record 
than the Whigs could show for themselves. Pulteney could see no differ- 
ence between the Whigs and Tories, — and he deemed it to be the part of 
integrity to acknowledge both without being true to either. But a single 
member of Parliament had the courage, in his simplicity, to magnify the 
merits of Toryism in the measures of the Whigs. This was a brief speech 
of Col. Mordaunt, " one of those unhappy partisans," says Cooke, " whose 
zeal is far more fatal to their friends than to their foes." With an unlimit- 
ed ambition to serve his party regardless of consistency, he boldly declared 
that if it were necessary to save the Whig party by quadruplicating the 
army he would vote for it. The minister had admitted the principle, and 
why should he hesitate to vote for the application? The mingled expres- 
sions of party indignation, and of party joy which followed tliese declara- 
tions afford an amusing example of human weakness. The Whigs were 
indignant because he identified a Tory absurdity with the principles of 
their party, and the Tories were delighted to see one of their party enormi- 
ties honored by being placed in the frame work of a Whig administration. 
Profession and practice met as strangers. The democratic principles of the 
revolution were finally acknowledged by all, and by these the nation was 
saved in its strength, and prospered in its growth. 

In 1737, a most important subject was introduced in the House of 



552 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Commons by Sir John Barnard. It was " A Proposal towards lowering 
the Interest of all the Redeemable Debts to 3 per cent, and thereby to enable 
the parliament to give immediate ease to his Majesty's subjects, by taking 
off some of the taxes which are most burthensome to the poor, and especially 
to the manufacturers, as likewise to give ease to the people, by lessening 
the annual taxes for the current services of the year." ^ The amount of 
the national debt, February 1, 173'7, was £47, 855, 943 3^. The public 
ftmds were at a considerable premium, in 'Change Alley, and Mr, Barnard 
considered it an unpardonable neglect on the part of Parliament not to take 
measures to reduce the interest. The people were heavily loaded with 
taxes, and he was confident that such a measure would give them essential 
relief. " By the reduction of interest," said he, " a few thousands will 
suffer, or think the}^ suffer, b}' their not being able to heap up riches so 
fast, or to live so luxuriousl}^ or convenienth^, as they might otherwise have 
done ; but continuing our taxes, and the present high rate of interest, 
millions will suffer, and hundreds of thousands will at last be utterly 
undone." 2 He believed that the rate of interest on public securities had 
ahvaj-s had, and always will have, a great influence upon the rate of interest 
between man and man, and that as interest on private securities will always 
be higher than on the public, — it was the imperative duty of the govern- 
ment to lower the latter, that the former might be reduced as necessary to 
the business prosperit}' of the nation. His speech upon this subject 
discovered great ability and practical learning, and led to long and 
exciting debates. He regarded it as " highly requisite for ever}' nation to 
take ever}^ possible method for increasing its trade, and improving its 
land ; and that nothing can tend more to either of these purposes, than a 
low rate of interest for the use of or forbearance of the payment of money 
between man and man." He instituted a comparison between the high 
rates of interest in England, and the low rates in France and Holland, — 
showing the disastrous results upon Trade, Industry and Navigation. 
*'' This single advantage. Sir," said he, referring to the difference of interest 
onlj-, "is of itself sufficient to exclude our manufactures from every 
market in the world, where our rivals can come in competition with us."^ 
This measure was chiefly defended by the landed interest, and it was 
bitterly opposed by the monej^ed classes. " Some of those," sa3's Coxe, "M'ho 
were averse to the measure, declared themselves incapable of giving their 
opinion, without due reflection and more information."* It was opposed 
by AYalpole as ill-timed and inexpedient. His friends, who had alwa3's 
voted together upon most subjects, were divided upon this. It was urged 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol.. x, p. 72. 3 Parl. Deb., Vol. x, pp. 75, 7G, 77, 78, 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. x, p. 91. 79. 

* Coxe's Walpole. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 553 

as an objection that a considerable part of the South Sea Annuities 
belonged to widows and orphans, and to persons who are proprietors of 
small sums, and such an appeal was not without its effect. It was calcu- 
lated to excite the sympathy of members in support of measures proposed 
to protect widows and orphans. Rich men during all time have made this 
appeal to the legislator. It is made with great solemnity as if private 
sympathy were an element of public econom}-. This subject was alluded 
to by a distinguished member of parliament more than two hundred j-ears 
ago, Sir Josiah Child. It was an old objection at that time. In his 
treatise on the importance of a low rate of interest to the indu^ry of a 
nation, he says, — " That old objection about widows and orphans, I have, I 
think fully answered in m}' former treatise ; but because I sometimes meet 
with it, I shall sa}' a word to it here, viz : — 1. Widows and orphans are 
not one to twenty of the whole people ; and it is the wisdom of law-makers 
to provide for the good of the majority of the people, though a minor part 
should a little suffer. 2. Of widows and orphans, not one in forty will 
suffer the abatement of interest for these reasons : " He gives several 
reasons for his opinions, the first of which will suffice in this connection, 
viz : — " Of widows and orphans nine of ten in this kingdom have A^ery 
little or nothing at all left them b}' their deceased relations ; and all such 
will have an advantage by the abatement of interest, because such an 
abatement will increase trade, and in consequence occasion more employ- 
ment for such necessitous persons." ^ It would be economy to seek out the 
number of widows and orphans, and to provide for them hy direct and 
liberal appropriations from the public treasur}^, — rather than to permit the 
fact of their holding securities so to shape the policy of the government as 
to lead to general ruin, or of loss to the manj'. 

It was also urged, but without force or historical accuracy', — that a low 
rate of interest was ruinous to trade, and to general prosperit3\ In a 
letter to Mr. Trevor, Horatio Walpole acknowledges, that although he fully 
justified the principle of the bill, still, as Sir Robert Walpole was much, 
opposed to it, and in view of its unpopularit}^, — he thought it would be 
imprudent to push it. Its discussion led to much excitement and great 
bitterness of feeling, — and it was defeated by a large majoritj^^ Its 
defeat caused much rejoicing. The event was celebrated b}' a general 
illumination of the cit}^, and it was with diflSculty that the mob was pre- 
vented from burning the house of Sir John Barnard. It is a humiliating 
fact, to be acknowledged at any time, that a public debt, and an increasing- 
number of public creditors, — is nothing less than adding seriously to the 



1 "A New Discourse of Trade," etc., 2 parl. Deb., Vol. x, p. 147. 
Preface, p. xxxi. 



654 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

public dangers. How far Walpole was influenced by this consideration, to 
oppose what he knew to be right, but which he deemed to be inexpedient, 
there is no record to show. 

A similar bill was brought forward by the Pelham administration in 
1750, and carried through with but little opposition. "This was looked 
upon," says Tindall, " to be a very bold measure in the minister, and some 
of his best friends, even the da}^ before the vote passed the House of Com- 
mons, endeavored to persuade him against it." ^ In alluding to it, Smol- 
lett says, — " The capital measure which distinguished this session of par- 
liament was the reduction of the interest on the public funds ; a scheme 
w^hich was planned and executed hy the minister, without any national dis- 
turbance or disquiet, to the astonishment of all Europe. What was denom- 
inated as unaccountable obstinac}^ on the part of Pelham, by his doubting 
friends, was really allowed to be by them in due time, his extraordinary 
foresight, good judgment and firmness. 

A more striking example of Walpole's want of confidence in principle is 
to be found in his treatment of the Dissenters. The Protestant Dissenters 
were among his most devoted and active friends. They were uneas}^, and 
justly so. They felt themselves degraded under their disabilities. He had 
repeatedl}" given them assurances of relief. They were entitled to it. At 
no time was he fully prepared to meet their wishes. They had his open 
and undisguised s^^mpathy, but they wanted it redeemed b}' action. He 
admitted the ready disposition, but he declared that he had not the power 
to serve them. They were either too earl}', or too late ; the parliament was 
adverse, other business too pressing, or the ministers divided ; the elections 
were pending, or the Church uncertain, — so that frequent postponements 
had almost exhausted their patience, and justified doubts as to his sin- 
cerit3'.2 Toleration sometimes, may be impracticable, but it is the mission 
of- democrac}^ to remove all the obstacles of intolerance at the earliest 
practicable moment. 

When a motion was made, in 1736, for the repeal of the Test Act,^ Wal- 
pole was not onl}^ embarrassed but alarmed. He remembered his promises 
with confusion, for he could see no way to redeem them. He sent for their 
representative men, and frankly told them, that " he was in their power, 
that they might ruin him, and that he could not choose a parliament with- 
out their assistance ; but, if the^^ would give him their interest, they might 
depend upon his utmost endeavors to serve them." These promises were 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xiv, p. 619. 3 Act of 25th, of Charles II., " for pre- 

2 From a passage in the Craftsman, (No. venting dangers, which may happen from 
609) it appears that Walpole denied that he Popish recusants." Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, 
had ever promised to serve the Dissenters, p. 1016. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 655 

repeated in the ministerial papers.^ The Dissenters were again pacified by 
his earnest protestations of devotion to their cause, and instant!}' took 
measures to notify their friends throughout the kingdom, how they were to 
act, how they were to vote, and these instructions were implicitly followed. 
With such encouragements, thej^ had just reason to expect that parliament 
would take early action in promoting their cause. But in this they were 
again doomed to be disappointed. Nothing seemed propitious. The affairs 
of Europe were in a disturbed state, the high church party imagined that 
popery was gaining ground in the kingdom, and toleration seemed an 
impending danger. The crj- of " The Church in danger," was dreaded bj- 
the minister. He knew its potency. He remembered the effects of the 
impeachment of Sacheverell. ''He had been successful," sa3's Cooke, " in 
his endeavors to reconcile the Tories to the present dynasty ; and he feared 
to shock them hy a proposition which thej- considered little less than 
impious." The clergy were quiet, and he preferred they should remain so. 

To 3'ield to the demands of the Dissenters at this time, would only 
aggravate old dangers, and invite new ones — and with no probability of 
advancing their cause. Such was the judgment of Walpole, but those who 
had patientl}^ waited so long for the careful and ex]^)edient minister, could 
wait no longer. The question was brought forward in parliament by Mr. 
Plumer and Lord Polwarth. It was unfortunate for the Dissenters, that 
the}' were not recognized among the leaders either of the Whig or Tory 
part}'. The Tories were with Walpole in this defence of intolerance, and 
though the opposition Whigs supported the Dissenters, they were not united 
with any hopes of success. Mr. Plumer, in moving the repeal, professed 
to have no doubt as to the result of his motion.^ *' I make no doubt," said 
he, " of having the unanimous assent of this House to what I am about to 
propose : and, in my opinion, it would contribute greatly to the glory of 
this generation, as well as the honor of this House of Commons, to h^ve 
it agreed to nemine contradicente. He protested most solemnly, that the 
Dissenters were as true Christians, and reverenced the institution called the 
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper ; and were as loyal to his majesty, and the 
Protestant succession, as the Established Church could be. He regarded 
the requisitions of the Test Act as Anti-Christian, inasmuch as it had a 
tendency to influence unworthy men to take the oath of oflSce for the mere 
sake of place. It was legislative persecution. 

In the speech of Walpole, in reply, says Tindall, " he expressed himself 



1 The London Journal and the Gazetteer, ■was apprehended by those who were for it, 

2 "This motion was, at that time," says that its miscarriage Avould lose the affec- 
Tindall, " generally thought to be made not tion of the Dissenters to the minister." 
with 'any hopes of success, but because it 



556 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

SO cautiouslv with regard to the Church, and so affectionately with regard 
to the Dissenters, that neither party had cause to complain of him." He 
was evidently persuaded of his inconsistent course on this subject, for he 
commences with a personal explanation. *'Sir," said he, ''as I have hitherto 
a[)peared to be an utter enemy to all persecution, I hope my disagreeing 
Avith this motion will not be looked on as any sign of having changed my 
opinion, or of my having any intention to alter mj^ conduct for the future: 
so far otherwise. Sir, I have still, and I hope shall always have as tender 
a regard for the Dissenters of all denominations, as any man can have, 
T\iio is a true member of the Church established b}' law." 

With such a comprehensive mind as that of Walpole, — how could he 
ever expect to meet the wishes of the Dissenters, — so long as he assumed 
" that in every society there ought to be an established religion ? " and so 
long as he believed that " the repeal of the Test Acts w^ould raise most terri- 
ble disturbances and confusions ; for wath respect to all posts and emplo}'- 
ments that go b}" election, we should have all the Dissenters combining 
closely together to bring in their friends, which w^ould of course breed 
many riots and tumults." ^ With Dissenters he classed the Roman Catho- 
lics, and non-jurors. " As I am a member of the Church of England," he 
continued, " and think it the best religion that can be established, I think 
it my dutj' to prevent its being ever in the powder of such men to succeed in 
an}' such attempt ; and for this purpose, I think it absolutely necessary to 
exclude them from any share in the executive part of our government at 
least ; because if the executive part should once come to be generally in 
their hands, they would probably get the legislative part likewise, from 
"which time it would be in vain to think of prcA^enting, in a peaceable man- 
ner, their doing wdiatever they had a mind." ^ He believed it absolutely 
necessar}' to exclude all dissenting officers from the army, and he did not 
regard such exclusion any more of a hardship, or punishment, than it would 
be to exclude a man of five foot and a half from being a soldier in the 
guards." As for the admission of unworthy persons to the Sacrament of 
the Lord's Supper, — the law did not provide for any such possibility, except 
*' from the criminal and irreligious neglect of the minister who admits 
them." 

In these views, are to be found democratic wishes connected with Tory 
errors, and a Christian theory with anti-Christian practice. The state does 
not necessaril}' embrace the tenets of any particular church, and the creed 
requisitions of a church properly find no place in the formation of a state. 
Conformity of opinion in theology, strictly speaking, can in no respect be 
regarded either as loyalty or treason, to the civil government. Man's 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 1055. 2 ibid, p. 1054. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 557 

relations to his God, centre in his individuality, and his conscience becomes 
his rule ; but his relations to man and goA^ernment are personal and con- 
ventional, — involving alike the interest of others with his own. He is 
accountable for both classes of duty : the former is with himself and 
Maker ; the latter is a joint and defined interest to be regulated in common 
with others, for the equal good of all. In respect to individual freedom, 
religious and political parties are alike. The extent of conformity is tlic 
limit of organization, — and even if the element of infallibility be claimed, 
b}" an}^ sect or part}*, it can be onlj- for self preservation, and not for all. 
Civil government provides for all, and it is a tyranny if it assumes a princi- 
ple of exclusion or inequalit}'. Government is not founded on charity or 
philanthrope', but on the basis of equal rights and justice. 

Lord Polwarth made a conclusive repl}' as to the absurdit}' of Walpolo 
in assuming that toleration was dangerous to the peace and unity of the 
nation. He referred ver}^ appropriately to the liistor}' and experience of 
Scotland and Holland, to show that nonconformity in religion was not 
incompatible witli the prompt and 103'al admin isti-ation of the government 
b}' officials of a different religious faith. And 3'et, he dishonors the 
philosoph}' he sought to defen'd, when he proscribes the Roman Catholics, 
and non-jurors. " With respect to non-jurors and Roman Catholics," said 
he, " the hardships put upon them are not for the sake of a scruple of con- 
science in any matter of religious concern, but because ihej are enemies to 
the state, and to the present happ}^ establishment." Whatever may have 
been true of Catholics, at this time, this is not Catholicism now. 

An article was published in the '''■Daily Gazetteer," which, it is said, con- 
tains the views of Walpole accurately stated. The following is an extract : 
" If the Dissenter hath the gift of common sense, he will carry his claim of 
indulgence no further than may be compatible wdth the genius and circum- 
stances of the people ; he will have the wisdom to insist on no other 
demands of right than what he may probably maintain against the power 
of the Church and reconcile to the opinion of the common people. He 
will rather wait till the former have less dominion, and the latter fewer 
prejudices, before he contends for full and perfect liberty ; since to set up 
his scheme, while such power remains unbroken and such bigotr}' uncon- 
vinced, must draw the united violence of both upon him, and probably end 
in the destruction of his beloved cause." ^ This may be considered as 
good advice under the circumstances of the case, — but it is not in harmony 
with his philosoph}'.^ 

1 Daily Gazetteer, No. 227. honor, unswerving regard to principle, and 

2 "The conduct of the Whigs upon this recklessness of consequences, so admirable 
occasion," says Cooke, " was that rather of in private life, utterly disqualify tlieir pos- 
prudent than lofty-minded men. But it is sessors for the government of a free coun- 
a melancholy fact, that tlie chivalrous try." — Jlist. of Party, Vol. ii, p. 213. 



558 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Perhaps the best test of principle, to illustrate the intolerance of this 
period, was tlie action of Parliament on the petition of the Quakers. The 
bill introduced and defended b}' Walpole, provided " that the tithes and 
Church dues, which they conscientiously refused to pay should, when the 
amount was not litigated, be levied b}- a summar3' process before two justices 
of the peace." It was not a party question, so much, as one of mere 
political expedienc}^ The Quakers, unlike all other people, claimed 
exemption from the common obligations of societ}', — and to tolerate their 
peculiarities of conscience, was a grave question for the consideration of 
statesmen alone. This bill was opposed with little success in the House of 
Commons. It was passed by a majority vote of one hundred and sixt}'- 
four to fort3"-eight. In no respect were the dogmas of theolog}' compro- 
mised, of any denomination, and yet, the petition was bitterly' opposed b}^ 
the clergy. 

" The power to persecute," sa3^s Cooke, " was never yielded without a 
struggle: the bishops sounded the alarm, and when the bill reached the 
lords, the whole clergy were arraj^ed against it." * * * " It is a fearful 
sight to behold the ministers of a Christian church, standing before their 
brethren to claim a power that could be onl}^ useful to gratify the darkest 
and most malignant passions of our nature. Fifteen bishops divided 
against this bill, not one for it. It was rejected b}' fift^'-four votes against 
thirty-five." ^ 

During the reign of George II. the Tories were constantly watching the 
people, and proposing measures for consideration, which the}- had opposed, 
but which had been popularized b}^ their opponents. Thc}^ proposed reme- 
dies for evils which they had practised, and the enjoj^ment of privileges 
they had denied. They embraced opinions which they had denounced as 
dangerous, and labored against measures it was alwaj^s their pride to 
approve. Any mode of acquiring influence was acceptable to them, if it 
promised present success. Even the alienation of parental affection, and 
the subversion of filial dut3>, in the royal famil}', were not so sacred in 
their eyes as to be exempt from their degrading and speculating hands. 

History affords no example more revolting to the refined reader, or more 
shocking to the true heart of aflTection, — than is to be found in the sad 
record of Frederic, Prince of Wales, the eldest son of George II. He was 
born in 1707, and he was earl}' distinguished by all that is hateful in charac- 
ter, or degrading in practice. A more unkind destiny was never allotted to 
man, though born to be a King, and the father of a King.^ The forlorn 
and moaning Sloth,^ and howling Hj^sena are not supposed to be at any 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 1166. grade family, the Ai, and the Unau,— Sir 

2 He was the fatlier of George III. Charles Bell says,— "Modern travellers 

3 In speaking of animals of the tardi- express their pity for them : whilst other 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 55D 

time repugnant to tlicir dams, or abhorrent to their kind. But poor 
Frederic, whose horoscope must have presented all the malignant stars in 
conjunction, was ushered into life, heir to no joy, and apparently capable 
only of evil, and banished beyond the confines of paternal love. With all 
his defects and sins, from what we know of him ; his reputation, touched 
by the hand of charit}' and consideration for what he was, and for what he 
could not be, — has more of grace and less of acrimony in it, — than is to be 
found in the reputed language and conduct of his ro3'al parents. His lot 
was a most unnatural one, for he was without a father or mother, — though 
both were living. He was not permitted to accompan}^ them in their first 
visit to England, nor to go there until after his father's accession to the 
throne. 

No man, perhaps, had more frequent opportunities to see the Prince, or 
to hear of him, — than Lord Hervc}'. He could be called with great pro- 
priety the Boswell of the King and Queen.^ Proper allowances, however, 
should be made in view of his personal differences with the Prince, and his 
natural spirit of detraction.'"^ The brief, though eventful period of the 
Prince is worthy of special notice, because it shows that roj'alt}' is not 
exempt from the common conditions of chance, nor from the severe and 
bitter trials of party. The mistakes of democracy are temporary in their 
nature, and they not only find a speed}" remed}^, but if rightly- viewed and 
studied, may be made morallj' profitable. 

The analysis of Prince Frederic's character, by Lord Herve}', is a ps}'- 
ohological curiosit3\ Onl}' a portion of it is given. He says, — " The con- 
tradictions he was made up of were these : — He was at once hoili false and 
sincere; he was false by principle, and sincere from weakness, trying 



quadrupeds, they say, range in boundless over head, along the branches till they 

wilds, the sloth hangs suspended by his touch, and thus from bougli to bough, and 

strong arms — a poor ill-formed creature, from tree to tree : he is most alive in the 

deficient as well as deformed, his hind legs storm, and when the wind blows, and tlie 

too short, and his hair like withered grass ; trees stoop, and the branches wave and 

liis looks, motions, and cries conspire to meet, he is then upon the march." — Sir 

excite pity; and, as if this were not enough, Charles Bell on '* The Hand, its Mechan- 

they say his moaning makes the tiger relent ism, and Vital Endowments, as Evincing 

and turn away. This is not a true picture : Design, ^.?>2" In all conditions of nature, 

the sloth cannot walk like quadrupeds, but organized existence is benignly endowed 

he stretches out his strong arms— and if he with special functions capable of enjoyment, 

can hook on his claws to the inequalities of ^ John Wilson Croker, Editor of Memoirs 

the ground, lie drags himself along. This of Lord Hervey, says, — " Lord Hervcy is, 

is the condition which authorizes such I may venture to say, almost tlie Boswell 

an expression as 'the bungled and faulty of George II. and Queen Caroline — but 

composition of the sloth.* But when he Boswell without his good nature." — Preface 

reaches the branch or the rough bark of a to Memoirs, p. lix. 

tree, his progress is rapid ; he climbs hand ^ Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. lx. 



560 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

always to disguise the truths he ought not to have concealed, and from his 
levity discovering those he ought never to have suffered to escape him ; so 
that he never told the truth when he pretented to confide, and was forever 
telling the most improper and dishonest truths when anybody else had 
confided in him. 

" He was at once both lavish and avaricious, and alwaj's both in the 
wrong place, and without the least ra}' of either of the virtues often con- 
comitant with these vices ; for he was profuse without liberality, and 
avaricious without econom}'. Pie was equally- addicted to the weakness of 
making many friends and manj^ enemies, for there was nobody too low or 
too bad for him to court, nor nobody too great or too good for him to 
betray. 

" He desired without love, could laugh without being pleased, and weep 
without being grieved ; for which reason his mistresses never were fond of 
him, his companions never pleased with him, and those he seemed to com- 
miserate never relieved by him. When he aimed at being merry in com- 
pany', it was in so tiresome a manner that his mirth was to real cheerfulness 
what wet wood is to a fire, that damps the flame it is brought to feed. 

" His irresolution would make him take anybody's advice who happened 
to be with him ; so that jealousy of being thought to be influenced (so 
prevalent in weak people and consequently those who are most influenced) 
alwa3-s made him say something depreciating to the next comer of him that 
advised him last. 

•" With these qualifications, true to nobody, and seen through b}' ever}'- 
bod}', it is easy to imagine nobody had an}* regard for him : what regard, 
indeed, was it possible anj'body could have for a man who had no truth in 
his words, no justice in his inclination, no integrity in his commerce, no 
sincerity in his professions, no stability in his attachments, no sense in 
his conversation, no dignity in his behavior, and no judgment in his 
conduct." ^ 

To afford the reader a contrast in respect to the same character, the fol- 
lowing is quoted from a letter that Lad}^ Bristol addressed to her lord, 7th 
of January, 1729. She saj's, " I introduced Lad}^ Hervey to the Prince of 
Wales, the most agreeable young man it is possible to imagine, without 
being the least handsome ; his person little, but very well made, and gen- 
teel ; a liveliness in his ej-es that is indescribable, and the most obliging 
address that can be conceived ; but the crown of all his perfection is, that 
great duty and regard he pays the King and Queen, with such a mixture of 
affection, as if obliging them were the greatest pleasure of his life, and 
they receive it with the utmost joy and satisfaction, and the father's fond- 



1 Harvey's Memoirs George II, Vol. it, p. 196v 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 561 

ness seems to equal the tenderness of the mother ; so that, I believe, the 
world never produced a royal family so happy in one another. Pray God 
long to continue it" ^ 

Such are the examples of a courtier's testimon3\ Whether true or false, 
they are framed to flatter the hand of power, or to defend it whether right 
or wrong. 

This 3'ear, 1729, Lord Hervey returned from Ital}^, and he soon became 
intimate with the Prince — only to establish a friendship to be broken. The 
friendship that was so soon broken seemed to have been transferred to the 
King and Queen. It is the power of to-day — that moves the common 
world, and but few mark their own channels of duty. Herve}^ was but 
little more than a creature of the court, to do the biddings of, and to smile 
at the capricious whims of royalt}', however foolish or however wicked. 
He even over-stepped the bounds of decency in argumentative endeavors to 
widen the deplorable breach between the mother and son, though at times 
he ventured to make a hopeful, or apologetic defence of the latter against 
the vile surmises and unfeeling predictions of the former. The mother, 
when left alone to speak, or act, showed a rancor that was unnatural, and 
an imprudence that was revolting. It may be said b}^ way of apology, 
however, that it could hardly be expected of human nature, that an impul- 
sive woman inheriting power, should quietl}^ control her passions, when her 
first-born became leagued with the political enemies of his parents, and of 
the party to which the}^ belonged.'^ 

In this bitterness of feeling towards the Prince the King and Queen were 
in harmony. " Lord Herve}^ took occasion upon this subject, (when he 
had permission to call the son a liar in print, to use the language in his 
Memoirs,) among man}' other things, to say he did not believe there ever 
was a father and a son so thoroughly unlike in ever}' particular as the King 
and the Prince, and enumerated several points in which they differed, as little 
to the advantage of the Prince as to the dispraise or displeasure of the King. 
The King said he had really thought so himself a thousand times, and had 
often asked the Queen if the beast was his son. Lord Hervey said that 
question must be to very little purpose, for to be sure the Queen would never 
own it if he were not." ^ In a joking conversation, they finally concluded 



1 Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. i, p. xxxii. apoplexy." The King spoke of him always 

2 Prince Frederic, according to court eti- as " a brainless, impertinent puppy and 
quette, led his royal mother to dinner by scoundrel." Such was the singular state of 
the hand every day; and yet she repeatedly feeling prevalent among the members, both 
'* cursed the day in which she had given male and female, of this exalted audi 
birth to that nauseous beast." His sister, exemplary family. — Dr. Smucker's Four 
the Princess Caroline, was equally malig- Georges, p. 120. Lord Hervey's Meraoirs^. 
nant, and prayed publicly and repeatedly 3 ijervey's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p.,4-7Ii. 
that * ' God would strike the brute dead with 

36 



662 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

that the child might have been " a changeling^'' " a child put in a cradle 
instead of another." The King was extremely pleased with this idea, and 
he wished that such a statement could be proved to be true. In reply to 
Lord Hervey, who was disposed to remind the Queen of her w^eakness in 
thinking too favorably of her son's understanding she said, impatiently, 
" My dear Lord, I will give it you under m}^ hand, if you are in any fear 
of my relapsing, that my dear first-born is the greatest ass and the greatest 
liar, and the greatest canaille^ and the greatest beast in the whole world, 
and that I most heartily wish him out of it." ^ 

When the Queen was on her death bed, the Prince manifested the deepest 
concern, on hearing of the dangerous illness of his mother, and expressed 
a desire, in the most respectful and dutiful manner, that he might be 
" admitted to the honor of seeing her." ^ Lord Hervey had anticipated 
such a request, and with a view to prepare him for it, asked the King what 
should be done in case it were made. The King said, " If the puppy 
should, in one of his impertinent affected airs of duty and affection, dare 
to come to St. James, I order you to go to the scoundrel and tell him I 
wonder at his impudence for daring to come here ; that he has my orders 
already, and knows my pleasure, and bid him go about his business : for his 
poor mother is not in a condition to see him act his false, w^hining, cring- 
ing tricks now, nor am I in a humor to bear his impertinence ; and bid him 
trouble me with no more messages, but get out of my house." ^ But the 

Prince's wish had been formally communicated by Lord North, and a 
fv^erbal or written reply, by authority of the King— became necessary. 
When advised of this, his Majesty flew into as great a rage as he could 
have done had he not been prepared. " This," said he, " is like one of the 

^scoundrel's tricks. No, no! he shall not come and act any of his silly 
.plays here." The King positively refused to give his consent to a written 

^reply, and the following verbal message was delivered by Lord Hervey to 

•Lord North — in presence of the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Pembroke :— 

" I have acquainted the King with the message sent to Lady Pembroke, 

rand his Majesty has ordered me to say that in the present situation and 
circumstances his Majesty does not think fit that the Prince should see the 

(Queen, and therefore expects he should not come to St. James." 

The King regarded this language as much too mild. It was with diffi- 

rculty that they persuaded him to consent to it. It was read by Lord 

•Hervey as stated, but he was ordered to give no copy of it. Lord Pembroke 
offered some palliatives to the wording of the message, but the King told 

IrJiim, angrily,-"" My Lord, you are always for softening, and I think it is 



1 Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 472. 3 Hervcy's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 499. 

2, Ibid, p.: -299. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 563 

mucli too soft already for such a villain and a scoundrel ; it is much softer 
than I ordered Lord Hervey to prepare it ; so pray go, and let it be given 
this moment, and be sure I am plagued with no more impertinence of this 
sort, for I will neither have the poor Queen disturbed with his silly noise, 
nor will I be troubled again with it myself." ^ 

In the same day, the Queen spoke of the subject to the King. " She 
wondered the Griff (the nickname of the Prince) had not sent to ask to 
see her yet, it would be so like one of his paroitres; but sooner or later 
I am sure one shall be plagued with some message of that sort, because he 
will think it will have good air in the world to ask to see me ; and perhaps 
hopes I shall be fool enough to let him come, and give him the pleasure of 
seeing my last breath go out of mj' bodj-, by which means he would have 
the joy of knowing I was dead five minutes sooner than he could know it 
in Pall Mall." ^ The King then told her all, and assured her that she 
should not be troubled, as he had taken care to prevent it. Still, in speak- 
ing to a dying mother, his heart seemed to relent, for he told her, that he 
had no objection to her seeing the Prince if such was her desire. " I am 
so far from desiring to see him," said she, " that nothing but 3'our absolute 
commands should ever make me consent to it. For what should I see him? 
For him to tell me a hundred lies, and to give myself at this time a great deal 
of trouble and to no purpose. If anything I could say to him would alter 
his behavior, I would see him with all my heart ; but I know that is impossi- 
ble." ^ Such were the dying words of a mother to a father respecting their 
offspring in the chamber of death.^ And yet, when uttering her last 
solemn counsel to the young Duke of Cumberland, who w^as then only 
sixteen j^ears old, she said, — " As for you, William, you know I have 
always loved 3'ou tenderly, and placed my chief hope in you ; show your 
gratitude to me in 3'our behavior to the King ; be a support to j^our father, 
and double jowr attention to make up for the disappointment and vexation 
he must receive from your profligate and worthless brother. It is in you 
only I hope for keeping up the credit of our family when your father shall 
be no more. Attempt nothing ever against your brother, and endeavor to 
mortif}^ him in no way by showing superior merit." ^ This was in 1737. In 
1751, the Prince of Wales died. When the news was communicated to his 



1 Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 502. guage. He called her " a fat bitch.'' 

2 Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 503. When, however, he favored an appropria^- 

3 Ibid, p. 504. tion to her as Queen, of £100,000, instead 

4 That the Queen was not entirely insen- of £50,000, she good-naturedly sent him 
sible to the spirit of forgiveness is made word that " :^/ie /a^ 5tYc^ had forgiven him.*' 
clear by the record of her intercourse with — Hervey^s Memoirs^ Vol. I, p. 62. 

Sir Robert Walpole. He had offended her 5 Hervey's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. 612. 
at an early period by coarse and rude Ian- 



564 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

father, the King, who was watching a game at cards, at Kensington, 
he merely replied, — "Dead, is he?" Then going round to Lad}^ Wal- 
moden, he remarked to her in an indifferent tone : — " Countess, Fred is 
gone ! " and then the game proceeded.^ 

Soon after her affectionate address to the young Duke of Cumberland, 
the Queen " took a ruby ring off her finger, which the King had given her at 
her coronation, and, putting it upon the King's, said, * This is the last thing 
I have to give 3'ou — naked I came to you, and naked I go from you. I had 
every-thing I ever possessed from 3'ou, and to 3'ou whatever I have I return. 
My will you will find a A^ery short one : I give all I have to you.' She then 
asked for her keys, and gave them to him." When in health she had fre- 
quently expressed a wish in case she died that the King should marry 
again, and now she repeated it as her dying counsel, " upon which his sobs 
began to rise and his tears to fall with double vehemence. Whilst in the 
midst of this passion, wiping his eyes, and sobbing between ever}^ word, 
with much ado he got out this answer: — ''Non^non; j^aurai des maitr esses. ^ 
To which the Queen made no other repl}' than — ' Ah ! mon Dieu I cela 
n'empeche pas.' I know this episode will hardly be credited, but it is 
literally true." ^ 

Much that is painfully revolting might be added to show that neither 
the splendors of the palace, nor the privileges of ro3'alt3', are any more in 
harmony with domestic bliss, than the humblest rustic and the rural cot- 
tage. But it would be an error to omit in a notice of the death-bed scene 
of Queen Caroline — the graphic language of Thackera3\ With irrepressi- 
ble humor, tinged with sadness, he sa3^s, — " There never was such a 
ghastl3' farce. I watch the astonishing scene — I stand b3' that awful bed- 
side, wondering at the wa3's in which God has ordained the lives, loves, 
rewards, successes, passions, actions, ends of his creatures — and can't but 
laugh in the presence of death, and with the saddest heart. In that often- 
quoted passage from Lord Herve3^, in which the Queen's death-bed is 
described, the grotesque horror of the details surpasses all satire ; the 
dreadful humor of the scene is more terrible than Swift's blackest pages, or 
Fielding's fiercest iron3'. The man who wrote the story had something dia- 
bolical about him : the terrible verses which Pope wrote respecting Herve3', 



1 The following epitaph appeared in the H*^ ^* ^^en the wbole generation, 

Jacobite press :- ^"" better for the nation. 

^ BvLt Since 'tis only Fred, 

•• Here lies Prince Fred, ^^^ ^^s alive and is dead, 

Who was alive and is dead. There is no more to be said." 

Had it been his father, «.j)r. SmucJcer's Hist, of The Four 

We had much rather ; ^ -.An -if^n 

Had it been his brother, Georges, pp. 149, 150. 

Still better than another. o tt » -nr • tt- "to 

Had it been his sister. ^ Hervcy's Memoirs, Vol. ii, p. ol3. 

Ho oue would have missed her. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 565 

in one of liis own moods of almost fiendish malignitj^, I fear are true. I 
am frightened as I look back into the past, and fancy I behold that ghastly, 
beautiful face ; as I think of the Queen writhing on her death-bed, and crj-- 
ing out, ' Pray ! pray ! ' — of the royal old sinner by her side, who kisses 
her dead lips with frantic grief, and leaves her to sin more; of the bevy of 
courtlj' clergymen, and the archbishop, whose pra3ers she rejects, and who 
are obliged, for propriety's sake, to shuffle off the anxious inquiries of the 
public, and vow that her Majesty quitted this life ' in a heavenly frame of 
mind.* What a life ! to what ends devoted ! What a vanity of vanities !" i 

These remarkable and painful domestic scenes have been given with a 
double purpose. To show that roj-alty is not above the ordinary condi- 
tions of humanitj', and therefore less safe for the people because more per- 
manentl}' placed beyond the power of remedial measures, than democratic 
institutions. Also, to illustrate the grave truth that it is not for the best 
good of societ}^, that woman should be connected with the exciting politi- 
cal cares and responsibilities of government. 

Let this important point be more fully explained. Religious wars, it has 
been truly said, are the most bloody and cruel. This fact sounds strangely 
when repeated. It might be reasonably supposed, that the professed fol- 
lowers of the Prince of Peace would be likel}- to strive to emulate their 
Master's examples. Not so. Their course, however, is strictly in accord- 
ance with the laws which govern the human mind. Religious conceptions 
of dut}-, it must be remembered, embrace all the sacred obligations encum- 
bent on man, to his kind, to society, to self, and to his God. A deep and 
honest sense of such momentous accountabilit}" constitutes a mental power, 
that is a law to itself, that knows no conditions, that recognizes no com- 
promise. It is a principle in action, — whether right or wrong. To believe 
the wrong, sincerel}', does not make it right, — but when wrong convictions 
are honest the conduct of the mind is aided by the full force of its integrity. 
A holy war, therefore, as a matter of belief and duty, is regarded as the 
sacred cause of the Almight}'. What is blood and slaughter, dire suffering 
and calamity, when viewed in connection with man's eternal destin^^, and 
as in accordance with the will of God ? The passions and propensities are 
enlisted in the hol}^ cause, and to hesitate or doubt, would be to violate the 
divine examples of sacrifice, and to question Infinite Wisdom. So it is, 
with the moral sense of man, — when demanding perfection regardless of 
nature, or of practicable means. Compromise is sin ; necessity an impend- 
ing doom. Man assumes to represent the divine attributes. 

Wlien we come to the honest politician, the statesman, a class of men 
are reached who deeply study their country to ascertain and understand its 



1 Four Georges, p. 350. 



566 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

condition, resources and wants, and next to religion in importance, the 
subject demands and receives the attention of the keenest powers of intel- 
lect and awakens to fearful activity all the passions of the soul. Patriot- 
ism is associated with the greatest glory in the affairs of life, and treason 
with the greatest infamy. Political parties divide friends and kindred, and 
often supplant the affections by bitter hate. Man in view of great duties 
demanded by his countr}', is ready to forswear his offspring who heeds not 
his will, and woman loses her maternal instincts and banishes the child of 
her affection, if he opposes the government where she has official position 
or influence. Society cannot be benefited by an^^ political organization 
that makes no distinction between the sexes, or where by an}' possibility 
woman loses the high and sacred qualities of noble sentiment and immac- 
ulate maternit}'. The intensity of a mother's love sometimes rescues the 
greatest sinner, or assuages the severest trials of humanity ; but when 
exasperated by party hate, and perverted by unnatural duties, — it increases 
the terrible evils it was designed by a merciful God to lessen, or to avert. 

What successes and splendors would compensate a King, what courte- 
sies and devotion could gratifj^ a Queen, while placed at enmity with a 
child like Prince Frederic ? What are the blessings of existence to such a 
child, while hated b}' his father and mother, — and of what benefit to society 
can such beings promise, or secure, — so long as they remain the doomed 
outlaws of that domestic circle where God has placed the centre of human 
happiness ? 

But the saddest feature of such alienations of the affections, when in 
any way connected with government, are yet to be stated. The afflictions 
of a famil}' are within a narrow circle and private, but of a royal family 
they concern the world and'are public. When it was known that Prince 
Frederic was at variance with his royal parents, that his habits were to be 
gratified and his wishes met, the veteran Tories and apostate Whigs united 
in opposition to the administration, making the heir to the throne the cen- 
tral point of a new court, antagonistic to that of his father. The Prince 
was soon led to see and feel " his own high dignity and power in the state,'* 
and to look upon the King no longer " as an irresistible master." Cooke 
says, " there was a rival court within the precincts of St. James'. The 
insidious and intriguing, but highly gifted Carteret ; ^ the courtly Chester- 
field ; Pulteney, brilliant in conversation as in debate ; Wyndham, who 
preferred the allegiance of the old Jacobites to a Tory Prince ; above, and 
revered by all these, the " all accomplished Bolingbroke," who conversed 
In language as elegant as that he wrote, and whose lightest table-talk, trans- 
ferred to paper, would, in its style and matter, have borne the test of the most 
searching criticism ; '^ these, the veteran leaders of the united opposition, 

1 Marchmont Papers. 2 Chesterfield's Letters to his son. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 567 

formed the society in which the young Prince lived ; ^ these were his. political 
tutors and his personal friends. Truly, the genius of the age appears to 
have been monopolized by this opposition." * * * u -q^^ Frederic was 
not the only pupil in this school of politics ; he had younger friends and 
companions, who, prepared by the same tutelage, were sent into the House 
of Commons, to herald the advent of a new generation. Of these, Polwarth 
has been alread}^ mentioned ; the delicate and sensitive George Lyttleton 
must be noted as another." ^ 

Unlike the conditions which govern men in their consent to promotions, 
ro3'alty, ex-officio, must have its advancements without regard to merit. 
The less the merit, perhaps the greater the need of titles. In 1717, the 
Prince was created Duke of Gloucester ; the next 3-ear the Garter was con- 
ferred upon him, and in 1726, he became the Duke of Edinburgh.^ 

Ordered home from abroad, a stranger in England, coldly received b}' 
the King and Queen, and banished from the privileges of St. James, it was 
not strange that he should seek his companions from among the aliens of 
authority, or that he should be avoided by the parasites of the court. 
Bolingbroke was the master spirit of this faction. It was his ambition to 
revive the Tor}' part}-. The great fact to be noted here and remembered is 
the readiness of the Tories to organize their plans even upon the basis of 
death itself. Without deploring the want of character and capacit}^ in the 
Prince, for the throne, they looked for the death of the King as the only 
means of realizing their hopes and schemes of ambition. Bolingbroke 
thought, probably, that as his greatest misfortune had been in the 
dsath of a Queen, it was but right that Providence should enable him to 
find his greatest gain in the death of a King. All his extraordinary 
natural gifts and acquired energies were directed with the sole motive to 
reinstate his darling party with its ancient surroundings of privilege and 
perquisite — reinforced by fresh accessions from the divided ranks of the 
d€mocrac3\ The administration was too strong for hopeful attack from 
without, — and its Tory opponents saw no prospect of success but in an 
event which they could not with decency declare, though their acts indi- 
cated no principle above the fruits of the grave. But their reliance upon 
death shared its impenetrable uncertainties, — for it was the Prince that 
died, and not the King. Such an event, permitted by the King of Kings, 
was calculated to startle the boldest political adventurer, and to awe the 
humblest. Such an example of moral and political treason, for party 
purposes, is not without its impious precedents, and the}^ will be multiplied 
upon the pages of history so long as man is capable of treachery, or igno- 



1 Bolingbroke left England early in 1735., 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 323. 

2 Dr. Smucker, p. 95. 



568 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

rant of democratic means of national safetj'. The death of the Prince 
*' demolished," sa3's Cooke, " the scheme which Bolingbroke had labored so 
assidiiousl}' to perfect. The opposition Whigs shrunk back to their own 
faction, and the Tories were left naked and powerless.^ Fox spoke of this 
event as the annihilation of all opposition ; he said he did not foresee a 
debate during that session, and thought the only difficulty the minister had 
to encounter was that of getting forty members together every day to make 
a house." 2 

For a time, Pitt^ was hopefully counted as among the friends of the 
Prince. But he was too honest, and too wise — to give permanent influence 
to a faction, or to act with such associates. Although the King was prej- 
udiced against him, — he was too much of a power to be neglected by the 
administration. ''He is represented," says Cooke, "by a contemporary 
as, at this time, swaying the House of Commons, and uniting in himself 
the dignity of Wyndham, the wit of Pulteney, and the knowledge and 
judgment of Walpole." " He was for the King," says another, " kind and 
respectful to the old corps, and resolute and contemptuous to the Tory 
opposition." ^ The King's prejudices were soon " changed into awe of his 
gigantic powers," and he was placed in the cabinet. His judgment always 
led to success. He was the idol of the people. Whatever he approved, 
was approved by them. The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, concluded this 
year (1748), became the subject of general congratulation irrespective of 
parties.-* 

It would be interesting and instructive to dwell upon other subjects 
which were debated during the reign of George II., but we are again 
admonished to be brief. We can do but little more than allude to principal 
measures — and dismiss them, simpl}^ affording the reader a glimpse or two 
of party machinery and legislative progress. The profit of such political 
surveys, however perfect, or imperfect, is more or less — according to the 
disposition of the reader to give them further study and reflection. The 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. it, p. 3ofi. wiser than I thought them ; if not, they are 

2 Fox to Williams, 17ol. Coxe's Life of much Pluckier than they deserve to be." — 
Walpole. Jlist of Party, Vol. ii, p. 356. By this 

3 See Memoirs of the Pelham Adminis- peace the treaties of Westphalia in 1()48, of 
tration. Nimeguen in 1678 and 1679, of Ryswick in 

4 This treaty has been furiously assailed 1697, of Utrecht in 1713, of Baden 1714, of 
by several Tory historians who compare it the Triple Alliance, 1717, of the Quadra- 
te that of Utrecht. These writers seem to pie Alliance in 1718, and of Vienna in 
suppose that the same terms can be obtained 1738, were renewed and confirmed. Signed 
from a victorious, as ought to be forced on the part of England by John, Earl of 
from an humbled enemy. Bolingbroke Sandwich, and Sir Thomas Robinson, Oct. 
thought differently. " If the ministers," 7, 1748. 

be wrote, "had any hand in it, they are 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 569 

history of principle makes its own clironology. The degrees of progress 
do not correspond with the order of consecutive dates. Cause and effect 
are convertible terms in political philosoph}'. As time is not always an 
element in tlie solution of political problems, it is quite important that 
if it cannot be an aid to inquir}', it should not be permitted to be an obsta- 
cle. A party that is permanent in its nature and perverse in its practice, 
is to be followed according to its acts, and not according to its theory or 
professions. The Tory part}^, out of power, seeks the popular means of 
restoration, only to abuse them, — for when invested with authority it does 
not hesitate to subvert the government to save the partj'. 

With no disposition to do justice to the measures of Walpole, the Tories 
became not only reckless in their charges against him, but utterl}" indiffer- 
ent to their own record of consistenc3^l They had no rule of action but 
incessant opposition, no object but success. ^ The subject of foreign policy 
was exhausted by factious debates, and Parliament sustained the minister 
by large majorities.^ Though the hateful Excise Bill had been slaughtered 
and buried even b\' its author, yet Pulteney did not abate his hostility. 
" I am persuaded," said he, " he still has the same good opinion of it, and 
waits only for an opportunity" to renew it." Walpole exclaimed, with impa- 
tience, — " I, for my own part, can assure this house that I am not so mad 
as ever again to engage in anvthing that looks like an excise."^ 

In the time of Anne, the Tories refused to allow any officer to hold a 
commission in the arm}' who would not promise faithfully to serve the 
Queen " without asking questions." Under George II., the}" were unwilling 
that the Duke of Bolton and Lord Cobham should be dismissed from their 
rank, without attempting " to deprive the crown of the right of dismissing its 
superior officers of the arm}' except upon a sentence of a court martial, or 
upon an address of one of the Houses of Parliament." ^ Walpole was at 
a loss how to regard such a radical innovation in the constitution. "We 
have heard of monarchies," said he, " aristocracies, democracies, of oli- 
garchies and anarchies ; but should this proposition take place, I am per- 
suaded, the government of this country would soon become what may be 
called a statocracy, an army-government, which is a sort of government 
was never yet established in any country ; and such a government as, I 
believe, no man in this nation would be fond of: I shall not run out in 
compliments to the gentlemen of the army, but I hope those gentlemen 



1 Even Smollett says, — " It must be ac- safety and advantage of the kingdom." — 

knowledged, the opposition were by this Pari. Deh., Vol. ix, p. 284. 
time irritated into such personal animosity 2 Parl. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 284. 
against the minister, that they resolved to 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 254. 
oppose all his measures, whether they ^ Parl. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 201. 
might or might not be necessary for the ^ Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 186, 



570 HISTORY OF DEMOGRACT. 

will not take it amiss, if I say, that I do not desire to give up our present 
form of government, in order to come under their government." ^ But 
Tindall, with no disposition to discuss a question which no one gravely 
entertained, says, — " But to say the truth, the party neither expected nor 
desired to succeed in the motion." ^ 

Another bid of the Tories for popular favor, was the " Place Bill." It 
was entitled, " A Bill for securing the freedom of Parliament, b}' limiting 
the number of officers (civil and military) in the House of Commons." * 
The extreme provisions of this bill in favor of the people at the expense of 
the crown, — made it unsafe for Walpole to oppose it. It was virtually a 
part}" pledge to the electors simply to gain their votes, — but with no sincere 
purpose to establish a policy which such a measure seemed to promise. 
" Several friends of the minister," says Coxe, " were strongly inclined to 
favor the bill, and others could not venture to oppose so popular a question; 
at the eve of a general election. The motion was also so agreeable to the 
sentiments of man}- among the Whigs, who usuallj^ supported government, 
that the minister did not use his influence on this occasion." ^ The bill was 
negatived by a vote of two hundred and thirt}- against one hundred and 
ninety-one, but with no effect on the general state of parties. 

But one of the most sagacious party mo:vements of the opposition to Wal- 
pole was made by Bolingbroke, viz : the repeal of the Septennial Act. 
What was professedly designed for preserving the peace of the nation at a 
dangerous juncture, by a party then in power, may not always serve that 
part}^ when out of power. It was a bold proposition, and it fulh^ developed 
the peculiar capacity of the Tories to deny their own philosophy when expe- 
dient, and to dishonor their own precedents when in conflict with their plans. 
This was no embarrassment to them, however, as the Whigs were in a 
more mortifying predicament,5 — having to defend a law which was passed 
by their influence in violation of principle in view of a supposed emergency. 
The Tories assumed to wield, with apparent delight, the efficient weapons of 
democracy against a Tory doctrine. Walpole's speech against repeal was 
a good specimen of part}' ingenuit}'. It requires an apt skill in a democrat 
to give currency to Tory logic. When men speak of seditions and insur- 
rections, and look for their causes only in the ignorance and instability of 
the people, always doubting others, but never doubting themselves, they 
may safeh^ be ranked as Tories, not democrats. When men usurp powers 
not provided for in the constitution for which the usurpation is designed as 
a defence ; when they confound the loyalty of government with the loyalty 
of party, it is a gross contempt of the people, and treason to the govern- 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 321. 4 Ibid, p. 368. 

2 Ibid, p. 324. 5 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 395. 

3 Pari. Deb., Vol. lx, p. 366. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 571 

ment they profess to serve. Self confidence is a virtue, when based upon 
principle, but a dangerous vice when derived from a selfish fear, or a forced 
conceit. 

The most interesting feature of this debate was the personal attack of 
Sir William Wyndham upon the minister, and Walpole's reply. The part}" 
suppositions of Sir William, are amusing, but the counter suppositions of 
Sir Robert, are instructive. " It is impossible," say^ Coxe, " at this 
distance of time to appreciate exactly- the minister's speech ; but Tindall 
asserts that it was one of the best he ever made. The fate of these two 
speeches is singular : Sir William Wyndham, by his disrespectful allusions 
to the King, drew on himself a reproof, the justice of which neither himself 
nor his friends have endeavored to disprove. It was considered as an intem- 
perate eff'usion, and did not lose the minister a single supporter in parlia- 
ment,, or a single adherent in the country ; 3'et it has been carefully 
inserted by party writers, calling themselves historians, while that of the 
minister has been no less invidiously suppressed." * * " The immediate 
result of Walpole's unpremeditated repl}' to this studied attack, was a sense 
of shame in the opposition Whigs, and of indignation in the principal 
Tories, which interrupted their cordial union. Several Whigs re-united 
themselves to the minister, and the leading Tories, ashamed of appearing 
the puppets of Bolingbroke, though they continued to thwart and oppose 
the measures of government, did not, of themselves, bring forward any 
new question during the remainder of the session." ^ Pultene}" complained 
bitterly that he had been duped by Bolingbroke, and Bolingbroke reaped 
the mortifying fruits of continued failure. 

But the surest criterian o.f part}- principle is to be found in the applica- 
tion of the Writ of Habeas Corpus. The test discovers the real Tory 
however disguised, the honest democrat however misrepresented. This 
great writ of liberty, the most famous of the law, is a standing monument 
of glory to the democracj' of Great Britain. At an early period, when 
government was personal, and its administration a despotism, they had 
the writ de odio et atia, which was directed to the sheriff, commanding to 
inquire whether a prisoner charged with murder was committed upon just 
cause of suspicion, or merely propter odium et atiam, for hatred and ill- 
will ; and if upon the inquisition due cause of suspicion did not appear, 
then there issued another writ for the sheriff to admit him to bail.^ This 
writ, according to Bracton, could not be denied to any one, it being 
expressly ordered by Magna Charta, to be made out gratis. It was limited 
in its application in the reign of Edward I., and abolished b}^ statute in 
time of Edward III. in all cases whatsoever, — but revived by repeal of all 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. ix, p. 478. 2 Blackstone's Com., Vol. hi, p. 128. 



672 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

statutes contraiy to the great charter.i When the rights and privileges of 
the subject were increased and provided for by a constitution, that was 
independent of the crown, this writ did not sufficiently embrace the wants 
of societ}', as the}' were secured upon a basis altogether above and bej^ond 
personal considerations. In the fourteenth century it was superseded by the 
writ of Habeas Corpus. Though this writ " is said to have extinguished 
all the resources of oppression," 3' et, its frequent suspension by Parliament, 
when most needed, and by unwarrantable judicial assumptions in substitut- 
tlng discretion for law, and delays for action, — led Pitt, in 1758, to cause a 
bill to be prepared, entitled, — " An Act for giving a more speedy remedy 
to the subject upon the writ of Habeas Corpus." This task was intrusted 
to a distinguished jurist, Charles Pratt, afterwards Earl Camden. It was 
supported in the House of Commons by Pitt and the Speaker, and was 
readil}^ passed. A series of ten questions was propounded to the judges, 
and each judge gave his opinion independent of the others, on all the ques- 
tions except the third.^ By declining opinions on this, the judges were 
evidently agreed to avoid all part in political parties. " The bill now 
introduced," says Cooke, " served as a touchstone to discover the Whigs in 
principle from the Whigs in name. The King openly declared against it ; 
Mansfield put forth all his influence to destroy it ; and even Hardwicke, 
led astray b}^ professional prejudices, joined his old enemy in its opposi- 
tion." * * * " The debate in the lords shows the influence of the 
crown in that Assembl^^, and how lightly many of those who call them- 
selves Whigs held the principles of their party." * * * " The Tory 
opposition proposed a compromise, and promised to introduce a measure 
in the next session which should pass with unanimity. The terms were 
accepted, but never fulfilled." 3 

The subject was thoroughly understood by Earl Camden. With great 
ability he gave an opinion from the bench. The following extract will 
afford to the intelligent reader some idea of its remarkable force, and elo- 
quent terms. " The discretion of a judge is the law of tyrants ; it is 
always unknown, it is diflferent in difl^erent men ; it is casual, and depends 
upon constitution, temper and passion. In the best it is oftentimes caprice, 
in the worst it is every vice, folly, and passion to which human nature is 
liable." * 

Political history is useful only in so far as it gives examples of wisdom 
and justice as connected with accurate knowledge and pure motives, 



1 Blackstone, Vol. hi, p. 129. much will the same operate to the benefit or 

2 The 3d Question was,— " What effect prejudice of the subject?" — Pari. Deb., Vol.. 
will the several provisions proposed by this xv, p. 901. 

Bill, as to the awarding, returning, and pro- 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. it, p. 392. 

ceeding upon returns of such writs of 4 L. c. J. Pratt's judgment in Doe dem. 

Habeas Corpus, have in practice? and how Hindson v. Kersey, 4to. London, 1764. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 673 

whether it be in vindication of virtue, or in condemnation of vice. "What 
men allow themselves to wish," says Dr. Johnson, " they will soon believe ; 
and the}^ will be at last incited to execute what they please themselves with 
contriving." There is no permanent safetj^ either to man or party, but in 
high and unquestionable motives. It is a crime to think what it is a crime 
to do. And when a nation becomes the subject of thought and dut}-, the 
first step is to determine the standard of principle to be adopted in action. 
"When Pale}^ wrote, what ma}' be regarded as a maxim, that — " A family 
contains the rudiments of an empire," he but imperfectly repeated what 
had been more distinctly uttered four thousand years before by an 
Emperor of the Celestial Empire : — " He was careful to beautify the five 
canons, until the five canons could all be obej-ed." ^ B}' this standard of 
principle, all men and measures are to be judged. When it is seen that 
enduring success can come only from its undeviating observance, — histor}' 
acquires an influence in harmony with the dignity of truth as illustrated by 
Providence. 

If George II. " was calculated by nature (only) for a pawnbroker's 
shop," as has been asserted, it imposes a dutj- upon the student of history, 
to look carefully to his surroundings, that he may gather the teachings to be 
found in the measures for which his advisers were responsible, and in the 
events during his reign which were permitted by God. The statesmen of 
his time, the leaders of opposing parties and factions, each in his own way, 
served his King and countr}', either with high and patriotic motives, or 
with motives to personal gain and aggrandizement. 

Sir Robert Walpole, though he did not betray his party in possession, 
was not alwaj^s true to it in principle. If he was prompt in denouncing 
toryism, he was not always proof against the temptations and expedients 
of its active exponents. He measured political events b}- the hour, with 
numerous precautions, as if God could not be trusted without the pettj^ 
expedients of man. His motives in resj^ect to the good of others, 
were doubtless stronger and purer than his avowed confidence in democ- 
racy'. His judgment was too often permitted to modify his faith. His 
impeachment, and his defence will best aflard the reader a just idea of the 
difficulties of his position, of the spirit and nature of the charges preferred 
against him, and of the manner in which he met them.^ Though victorious 



1 The cardinal virtues recited by Paley and wive?, order between superiors and 

are, Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance, Jus- inferiors, and sincerity among friends and 

tice. The five canons of the Celestial Em- associates-. — '* Shoo-King, — The Historic 

pire mean the five constant virtues : such as Classic "'Boovi i, p, 13. B. C. 2356. 

affection between parents and children, 2 On the 13th of February, 1741, the 

righteousness between sovereigns and sub- threatened motion was made. The public 

jects, distinction of duties between husbands expectation had been raised to the utmost 



574 HISTORY' OF DEMOCRACY. 

in the result, there were too man}- restless and aspiring men ambitious 
for place and inflnence, — to permit him to have an undisputed and undis- 
turbed career. If he erred in trusting the Tories too much, it was more 
attributable to the action of the renegade Whigs combined against him, 
than in an}' cherished hope that the Tories would permanently adopt a 
policy which it was their constant aim to subvert the moment the}^ had the 
power. 

Walpole's thorough knowledge of his opponents, of the variety of motives 
which led them to conspire against him without just cause, gave him an 
undoubting confidence in his own ability to frustrate their factious schemes, 
and always to secure a majority in Parliament. He fearlessly proposed 
alliauces which promised any degree of political influence, and he success- 
fully resorted to expedients to divide his enemies. He attempted to con- 
trol elections, so far as he could do it with decenc}', and even to subordin- 
ate the whims and animosities of roj'alty,^ — if such a thing were possible 
with a mind not above the most ordinary capacit}-, nor bej^ond the limits of 
impulse and prejudice. He did not succeed. He was disappointed. But 
when he saw that the chances were against him, he saw, also, the safety of 
retiring from official position. On the 9th of Februar}', 1742, Sir Robert 
Walpole was created Earl of Orford, and on the lltli he resigned. Par- 
liament was adjourned by the King to allow time for the formation of a 
new ministr}-. 

^' The chase was now ended," says Cooke, '' the game was fairl}' hunted 
down, and the pack which had been hallooed on b}^ Pulteney expected their 
spoil at the hands of their master. Seldom has one man held the political 
power which Pulteney now possessed. The King awaited his decision 
without power of resistance ; the ministers held their places at his pleasure ; 
and Walpole, fallen from his high station, felt that his life was at the mercy 
of his triumphant rival. The man who had been followed so long by the 
shouts of the populace now had it in his power to effect the measures he had 
before proposed, and to punish the conduct he had so often condemned." ^ 

In opposing so earnestly and with such apparent sincerity the measures 
of Walpole, what were the motives of Pulteney? He was not ambitious 
to be a political leader. He disclaimed all desire for such a distinction. 
He said he was willing to act, but he would not lead. He declared, " he 
was wear}' of being at the head of a party, and would rather row in 
the galleys." ^ And yet, he contributed largely of his means to aid the 



pitch ; the passages to the gallery were offer terms of reconciliation to the Prince 
crowded at a very early hour ; and the con- of Wales, but they were rejected with con- 
course was prodigious. — Hist, of Party ^ tempt. 

Vol. 11, p. 278. 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 303. 

1 He endeavored to persuade the King to 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 296. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 5T5 

opposition, and declaimed against the policy of the late minister with a show 
of candor and diversity of knowledge that embarrassed honest minds not 
having the means to verif}' his statements. His speech against Walpole 
was made up of such patriotic professions of dut}^, and confident assertions 
of fact that mau}^ were willing to follow such a leader without a knowledge 
of his motives, feeling that he was a disinterested friend to his countr3^ He 
had a manner of making statements so general, and 3'et so positive, as to 
indicate the nicest details of knowledge without communicating any real 
information. He gave candor to insinuation, and authority to conjecture. 
Such men are to be found in all ages. One would suppose that he was 
sincere in the declaration of his belief that he had clearly- made out a case, 
and he adds influence to his assertions by modestly assuming that he had 
done so. In giving his conclusions, he says, — " Thus, sir, I hope I have 
demonstrated, that at present we labor under great difficulties, and that our 
affairs are in the utmost distress both at home and abroad. This of itself 
is sufficient for raising a general suspicion against the conduct of our 
ministers." 

What could be demonstrated certainly should be of more eflject than the 
raising of " a general suspicion." Sir Robert "Wilmot, in giving an account 
of the debate to the Duke of Devonshire, says, — " Sir Robert Walpole 
exceeded himself. He particularly entered into foreign aflTairs, and con- 
vinced even his enemies that he was thoroughly master of them. Mr. 
Pelham, with the greatest decency, cut Pulteney into a thousand pieces ; 
Sir Robert ably dissected him, and laid his heart open to the view of the 
house." They were followed by others with great ability and effect. The 
poet was inspired to immortalize him in a satire called " The Statesman." ^ 
The subject was a good one. No character is so pitiful in history as a 
pompous parade of statesmanship without integrit}^ and without knowl- 
edge. It so blends truth with eiTor, merit with inefficiency, and character 
with imbecility,— that dignity is made ridiculous, and greatness doubtful. 
Pulteney was surrounded b}' such men as Pitt, Lyttleton, Marchmont, and 
others of high capacity, and if the motives which influenced him to make 
his speech were pure and for the public good, the same motives would have 
prepared him to exert his utmost in forming a cabinet to save his country 
from the misrule he was so ready to denounce. His course " clearly 



" Say, he made a great monarch change hands, 
1 It was 'vrritten by Sir Charles Hanbury He spake, and the minister fell; 
Williams • ^^ ^^ made a great statesman of Sandys, 

(O that he had learnt him to spell.) 

"Leave a blank here and there in each page, " Then enlarge on his cunning and wit, 
To enroll the fair deeds of his youth ; Say how he harangued at the Fountain, 

When you mention the acts of his age, Say how the old partriots were bit. 
Leave a blank for his honor and trmth. And a m©use was produced by a mountain." 



5TG HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

showed," says Cooke, " that the quarrel in which ho had engaged was not 
between Walpole and his countr}-, but between VValpole and Mr. Pulteney. 
In the language of Bolingbroke, — ^ he had looked upon opposition only as 
his scaflblding, and he now discovered the greatest readiness to demolish 
it.' ^ He eagerly made terms for himself and a few of his particular 
i'riends, bartered his popularity and consistency for a peerage, and assented 
to an arrangement which offered little prospect of any change of meas- 
ures." - The most that he did to punish the fallen minister for tlie great 
crimes he had accused him of, was, to make no promises to save him 
until his own aspirations had been realized, and then to consent to a 
reconciliation. 

No man better understood Pultene}^ than Walpole. He ignored the parti- 
san, and addressed the man. He spared his pride, and humored his ambi- 
tion. He flattered the Tories with Tory hopes, and their alHes with 
encouragement against Tory pretensions.^ He approached the coalition by 
sections, dividing it against itself — and suggested timely precautions to 
Pulteney in respect to his personal safety ; and he sufficiently deferred to 
'' the waiters upon Providence " to secure a tolerable share of their favor 
and confidence. He did not omit to exert his influence with the King to 
accomplish his objects, and this was not done without difficulty. The 
moment he found a willing ear at court, he exclaimed with a spirit of 
triumph to his brother — " I have set the King on him ! " and with a gesture, 
as if he were locking a door, he added, — " I have turned the key of the 
cabinet upon him." 

Thus Walpole placed his opponent in the hands of his coalition friends 
to be accused, condemned and sacriflced. The coalition Whigs were 
disappointed because expediency had failed. The coalition Tories were 
disgusted, because, instead of being able to dupe others, they were again 
duped themselves. Pulteney, no longer favored by the King, or trusted by 
the part}^ which he honored but could not save, — had no alternative but to 
unite with the Tories, or retire from public lifb. As he could not do the 
one without dishonor, he chose the other course as more consisteat with his 



1 Marchmont Papers. have the same good qualities, but if the 

'■i Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 305. name of Whig comes across them it locks 

s It was not difficult to arouse the mutual up all their faculties, and they cannot 

hostility of the parties. Dodington, writ- exert them. They stand like knight-errants 

ingtotheDukeofArgyle, says, "Your grace of old under sudden enchantment, with 

and 1 have often agreed that in the course their arms extended and their mouths open 

of our acquaintance we never met with a in the very attitude to act and speak for the 

set of gentlemen of more extensive honor man, when the charm comprehended in that 

and benevolence, truer lovers of their coun- syllable seizes them, and they can do 

try, or more zealous to serve it, than the neither for a Wh'^.''— Melcombe Papers. 

principal of the Torifes. Several of them Hist, of Party ^ Vol. ii, p. 305. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 577 

frequent declaration : — " When 1 have turned out Sir Robert Walpole I 
will retire into that hospital of invalids, the House of Peers." ^ 

Another character upon the stage, worth}^ of notice, was Carteret, 
afterwards Earl Granville, whose joll}^ habits and lo3^al whimsicalities made 
him a favorite with the Ring. His easy motives rendered him a conven- 
ient tool, and his indomitable spirit of intrigue a useful politician to a 
part}" whose chief aim was success. Pitt gave his character when he 
alluded to the situation of the King, " as hemmed in by German officers 
and one English minister without an English heart," and who favored a 
policy which " rendered this great, this mighty nation, a province to a 
despicable electorate." He denounced him as " an execrable, a sole 
minister, who had renounced the British nation, and seemed to have drunk 
of the potion described in poetic fictions, which made men forget their 
country." His official career was denominated by the opposition — " the 
drunken administration." His course affords an instructive example of 
what a King can do with a drunken statesman, who was willing to act with 
all parties, and without being trusted b}' an}'. With such aids ro3^alt3' was 
able to form a ministry that lasted forty-eight hours,^ when it was compelled 
to surrender to terms dictated b}" the common intelligence of the nation. 
The crown was seen to be powerless. Walpole was out of office, but his 
genius was active and his spirit still lo3'al. He saved the nation from the 
humiliations incident to imbecilit}*, and influenced the King to remove from 
his counsels such aimless politicians as Carteret. When the Earl of Wil- 
mington died, who was permitted b3' Pulteney to slide into office, as first 
commissioner of the treasur3', — b3" particular request of the King, Henr}* 
Pelham was appointed to fill the vacanc3'. This, too, was accomplished by 
the foresight and sagacit3^ of Walpole. He was prompt to give the new 
minister his advice. " You must," he said, "form 3'our government from 
your old friends, the old corps, and recruits from the Cobham squadron. 
Pitt is thought able and formidable, tr\' him or show him. Fox, you can't 
do without. Winnington must be had in the wa}" that he can or will be 
had. Your solicitor is your own and surely will be useful. Hold up the 
attorney-general, he is ver3" able and very honest.^ There are other mem- 
bers of the law no ways contemptible, in part3" considerable, that may be 
had. It is your business now to forgive and gain. Broad-bottom cannot 



1 In a "ballad, by Lord Hervey, under the ^^^^ tJiovgh 7>e\^ a fool, he's a fool of great pari'^." 

title of "The Patriots are Come," Carteret — Hervey' s Memoirs, Vol. i, p. liii. 

is made to say of " weathercock Pulteney'' ^ ^^ ^^^ny, it was called, "the long ad- 

^[ja,t ministration." 

3 The solicitor was Murray; the attorney- 

•• To cheat such acolleague demands all my arts ; general, Sir Dudley Eyder.. 

37 



578 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

be made for an3'thing that lias a zest for Hanover. Whig it with all oppo- 
nents that will parle}' ; but 'ware Torj- ! I never mean to a person or so ; 
but what the}' can bring with them wdll prove a broken reed." ^ The 
friendship of Carteret was tendered to Pelham with assurances of fidelity, 
which were cordially received and estimated at their proper value. " Another 
instance of a contest in duplicity," sa3^s Cooke, " in which both parties were 
insincere, and neither deceived." 

Pelham was soon made chancellor of the exchequer. He was a man of 
fair abilities, and moderation. He was popular and conciliatory to those 
he did not like, and polite to those he reluctantly trusted. His political 
friends were actuated by such a variety of motives, it was difficult to har- 
monize their views, to meet their wishes, or to promote their interests. By 
displeasing the King, he lessened his influence ; b}' doubting the King's 
favorites, he multiplied rivals and gave power to enemies. Carteret was still 
an obstacle to judicious counsels. Unfortunatel}-, with a presumptive hold 
upon the King, and with no standing with the ministers, — he availed himself 
of the circumstances of necessitj^ which, though he could not evade he 
hoped to alter, and found hope and strength in desperation. The struggle 
was between weak men who had not capacity to use power without abusing 
it, and those who deemed it the best policy to employ the wisest men, 
even if opposed by the crown. The Tories joined the coalition only to 
betraj^ its objects, and to assert their own peculiar policy ; and the adven- 
turers from the Whig ranks had no common standard of principle except 
to control the weakest, and exclude the strongest.^ It was an interesting 
conflict because it was a combination of roj'alty with incapacity against 
intelligence and statesmanship, of arrogant ignorance against knowledge. 

When Pelham found it to be impracticable to fulfil his promises 
to the friends he most relied on, or to meet the unreasonable whims 
and prejudices of the King, he did not hesitate to advise the immediate 
resignation of the ministers. " This decisive conduct," says Cooke, 
*' astonished, but did not alarm the King ; ^ he received the resignations 
with civility ; and immediately intrusted the treasury to the Earl of Bath." 
With Lord Granville for a colleague, as a prerequisite condition, he imme- 
diatel}^ commenced the task of forming a cabinet. Pie approached the labor 



^ Coxe's Memoirs of Pelham Adrainistra- ready to unite against a Tory or a Jacobite 

tion. enemy.— Ilist. of Party, Vol. ii, p. 334. 

2 The whole conduct of the Tories showed 3 it is said he got alarmed at last, but not 
that the taint of Jacobitism had not been so until the Earl of Bath's failure. He then 
thoroughly purged from them as their allies shut himself up, and declared he would re- 
supposed ; that of the Whigs showed that ceive no more of the white staves, gold keys, 
although they quarrelled among themselves and commissions that came pouring in upon 
when danger was distant, they were always him. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 579 

Tvitli such zeal and confidence, it was playfully said by one of the retired 
ministers, that it was unsafe for a person to be abroad nights for fear he 
would be impressed to become a cabinet minister. All who were wanted, 
and knew the difficulties of the proffered distinction, refused to negotiate. 
The Earl of Bath was compelled to confess his inability to serve the King 
under such conditions, and retired from the scene. Granville, unwilling 
to acknowledge a condition of things that would be fatal to his hopes — 
advised an appeal to Parliament : an expedient too absurd to find favor 
with ro3'alt3\ The King had no choice but to surrender to Pelham, though 
with inadmissible conditions of appointment and proscription. These he 
was required to abandon. The Pelhams consented to resume their appoint- 
ments, and were permitted to dictate their own terms. Granville soon 
found his own level by continued and persistent opposition, and the 
ministers united in demanding his dismissal from office — a demand that 
was ungraciously met bj the King, when he, too, found that royalty was 
powerless. 

The "Broad-bottomed" administration was formed in 1744 and continued 
to 1754, — till the death of Pelham. Though denominated broad-bottomed, 
indicating absurdl}', that coalition views were broad views, it was essen- 
tially democratic. The fact is clearly stated by Cooke.^ 

In the struggles for place, the Pelhams happil^^ illustrated the principle, 
that in the sub-division and dispensation of power, weakness sees no safety 
but in kindred weakness. " Upon the death of his brother," saj^s Cooke, 
*'all Newcastle's characteristic jealousy was aroused ; nor was it appeased by 
his appointment to the vacant post." At this time the great master spirits 
of party, during the reign of George II., had been removed by death. 
Lord Orford died in 1745, and Bolingbroke in 1751. It has been said that 
in the death of Orford, Pelham lost a friend, the Whig party only an advo- 
cate. But in the death of Bolingbroke, the Tory party lost both friend 
and advocate. Walpole was too much of a Whig to leave his party and 
lose position ; Bolingbroke was too much of a Tory not to serve his party 
for partj' purposes, though he had no position to lose. 

It was natural that Newcastle should now regard himself as the chief 
adviser of the crown. He belonged to a class of men whose policy is 
defined by their fluctuating ambition. He flattered himself that but little 
could be done without his counsel, or aid — either at home or abroad. He 
was nervous and fretful without motive, and active without sj'stem. He 
was always ready to lead but unable to guide. In fact, there was much 



1 Although the name by which this admin- Pelham's was essentially a Whig cabinet, 

istration is distinguished was intended to At first, a few Tories were admitted into 

designate it as founded upon a perfect coali- subordinate stations — but they soon retired. 

tion of all parties ; yet such is not the fact. — See Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 339. 



5S0 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

sober truth in the witt}^ remark of Lord Herve}- concerning hira, who said 
*^ he did nothing with the same hurry and agitation as if he did every- 
thing." His high rank, immense wealth and his disinterested disposition 
to serve the public gave him a great influence, but considerations of personal 
control outweighed public considerations of dut}^ He was willing to 
humor the prejudices of the King, to make a colleague of Granville, and 
proscribe Pitt. In attempting to form a cabinet he was careful to promote 
only those who could not become his rivals, and to avoid others who might 
become his masters. He was a compound of active elements : much of 
good, but little of wisdom. He was permitted b}^ his sovereign to do his 
best until he demonstrated that he could do nothing. 

Influenced b}' the weak fancies of a senseless pride, he imagined that 
Pitt could not be emploj^ed because the King disliked him ; that the pre- 
sumptions of rank and title were above the merits of abilit}" and character, 
— and he endeavored to form a cabinet to suit himself and please the King. 
He failed. He could neither strengthen an old one, nor create a new one. 
He gave up in despair. The King called upon Fox. It appeared to be 
eas}' to do, what soon proved to be an impossible problem. With no 
confidence in himself, yet disposed to flatter the whims of his sovereign. 
Fox ventured to apply to Pitt for aid, but not for direction. Pitt was fully 
conscious of his own powers, and he comprehended the pressing wants of 
the nation. He was not ofl"ensivel3^ arrogant. He had patience to look 
fairl}' at the honest endeavors of incompetent men, so long as they did not 
ask him to share their responsibilit3\ He knew well the candidates for 
place, and their capacity for public service. He said to the Duke of 
Devonshire what seemed like boasting, — but with him it was knowledge : — 
*' He was sure he could save the countr}', and he was equally sure no man 
else could." He absolutely refused to confer with the proud Duke of New- 
castle, on any terms ; and when approached by Fox, he exclaimed, — " You, 
sir! Are you come from the King? When his majesty shall condescend 
to signif}^ his pleasure to me, by any one entitled to m}^ confidence and 
esteem, I shall not be wanting in expressions of duty to his Majesty and 
devotion to his service. I have no answer to return by you." 

" All hope being thus extinguished," says Cooke, " Newcastle and his 
party resigned themselves to their fate ; and the King, with undisguised 
reluctance, intrusted the formation of a ministrj^ to Pitt. No step could 
be more popular. In the words of one who did not share the general enthu- 
siasm,- ' The eyes of an afldicted, despairing nation were now lifted up to a 
private gentleman, of a slender fortune ; wanting the parade of birth or 
title, of no family influence, except by marriage with Lord Temple's sister, 



1 Glaver. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 5S1 

and even confined to a narrow circle of friends and acquaintances. Yet, 
under these circumstances, Pitt was considered as the only saviour of Eng- 
land.' Pitt was, at this time, confined to his bed by the gout ; but he 
instantly made his arrangements." ^ 

The Duke of Devonshire was placed at the head of the treasmy ; the Earl 
of Temple was made the first lord of the treasurj' ; George Grenville was 
appointed treasurer of the navy, and Legge returned to his post of chancel- 
lor of the exchequer. The treasury was settled on the 16th of November 
(1756) ; the admiral t3% on the 20th ; and Mr. Pitt received the seals on the 
4:th of December, two days after the parliament had met. 

To use the language of Cooke, " The formation of this ministry was 
welcomed with a shout of approbation ; the joy throughout the country was 
universal." * * * i' Old patriots, who had long retired from the stage 
of public life, came forward to hail the promised millennium, and foremost 
among these w^as the Earl of Westmoreland, a veteran Whig, slow, but 
solid ; one who would pursue his principles though the}' led to a precipice." ^ 
These manifestations availed nothing. The King had yielded only to a 
nominal change. This change was one of necessit}', and he did not 
acknowledge its implied obligations. He was king, and wh}' should he 
consent to be less ? He had changed his ministers, but not his policy'. 
The}' were his counsellors, but he did not accept their counsel. He had 
sense enough to see that while Pitt was chief, the King could be nothing. 
All were moved by one great mind, and that mind was not the King's. 
This was more than royalty could bear. Not satisfied with his past expe- 
rience which compelled him to acknowledge the greatness of Pitt, he again 
resolved to repeat his folly in vain efforts to do without him. Pitt had 
compromised his popularity by trying to save Admiral Byng, whose death 
was demanded by the popular voice. By refusing to resign, he restored 
himself to favor in submitting to the indignity of a dismissal. Attempts 
to form a cabinet without Pitt were repeated, and with the same result as 
before. Pitt was re-instated much to the relief and joy of the nation. 
" Now," continues Cooke, " really commenced the Pitt administration, for 
Pitt, like Pelham, had enjoyed no power until he had stormed the cabinet 
and bound the King." 

In quoting from the interesting volumes of Cooke, it has been done with 
a sense of duty, not only to the subject but to the reader, whose motives 
are presumed to be those of honest inquiry, and without prejudice to special 
sources of truth. These quotations have been made with commendation, 
thus giving just testimony to the accuracy and good sense of the author, 
who is entitled to hiofh consideration for his labors in the sreat field of 



1 Hist of Party, Vol. ii, p. 375. 2 Hist, of Party, Vol. ir, p. 377. 



582 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

democrac}'. In dissenting, therefore, from his Tiews contained in the 
following paragraph, it is done with no abatement of confidence in his 
judgment. Most likel}' further reflection would lead him to the feame 
conclusions. 

In speaking of Pitt's vaunted ability to save the nation when no one else 
could, he thus concludes : 

" It belongs not to our subject to tell how well he fulfilled it. From the 
moment that he assumed the reins of government the panic which had para- 
l^'zed our efforts disappeared ; Instead of mourning over former disgraces, and 
dreading future defeats, the nation assumed, in a moment, an air of confi- 
dence, and awaited with impatience for tidings of victor}'. The narrator 
of part^^-struggles has nothing to do with this era ; part}^ was extinct ; the 
mastery of Pitt's genius was felt in every bosom ; dazzled by his genius, 
borne onward by a tide of success, the nation followed his counsels as the 
dictates of a superior being, and rose, as one man, to do his bidding. 
France, latel}' so insolent, felt his power and bled from every limb ; that 
people, who lately revelled in the anticipation of invading and plundering 
Britain, now fled the seas at our approach, and trembled, even upon their 
own shores. In each of the four quarters of the globe were our arms at 
the same time triumphant ; in each our alliance was deemed the best assur- 
ance of safety. It was not the Whig or the Tory party which did all this 
— it was William Pitt. The plan of operations was his, his colleagues heard 
and obeyed." ^ 

Such examples of statesmanship, in such critical periods of danger and 
difficult}', are precisely the ones most fully to illustrate the great principles 
of democracy. How can we estimate the genius, character and acts of 
William Pitt, or of any man, but in view of his ability and judgment in 
wiiich are to be found the elements of success or failure ? What gave hirn 
greatness above rank or title, power above royalty, discernment above 
blindness, wisdom above error, and judgment above accident, — but a com- 
prehensive knowledge of principles and of the means of their proper appli- 
cation ; and who, in the language of the poet, 

*' Consults his own clear heart, and nobly dares, 
To 6c, not to be thought^ an honest man." 

What is it that discerns the use and beauty of democratic truths, in all 
the variety of their application, but the gifts of genius that make the man, 
the citizen, the democrat — a statesman, and the statesman a patriot? With 
such a leader, the democratic party becomes triumphant and invincible, 
but without such a party what could such a leader accomplish? With such 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 583 

a leader and such a part}-, all party lines appear to be obliterated. They 
are invisible. Not because they do not exist, but because when democracy 
is true to itself, all opposition is paral3'zed by the irresistible glare of truth, 
and the bold spirit of duty. It is shapeless, powerless, fruitless. The 
people join hands with a common zeal. They see a system in the adminis- 
tration of public affairs tliat commands their admiring consent and confi- 
dence, and inspires them with a noble and lofty pride in the advancement 
and glor3' of their common countr}-. In strict language, true democracy is 
never confined to the narrow limits of mere " party struggles." Its strug- 
gles are but the developments of truth and principle. Its glor}^ is but the 
fearless application of great truths to meet the wants and exigencies of a 
nation. Such a party can never become extinct. As the sun gives all 
light, and dispels all darkness, whether visible or obscured, so the demo- 
cratic party when true to its mission presents the cause of truth in such 
broad and beautiful outlines of duty that no differences seem to divide the 
public mind, no party divisions are heeded. It is alwaj's the same great 
party, whether honored or dishonored, and men become great in the same 
degree they become its honest servants. 

Pitt was a man of genius, and a democrat. He succeeded, not because 
he was a man of genius, but because he was true to democracy. Boling- 
broke was a man of genius, but he was a Tory, and therefore failed because 
he was false to humanit}'. It might seem to a superstitious observer, that 
Providence was against him. But for the sudden death of Queen Anne,^ he 
would probably have been at the head of the Torj' party in power, as the Tory 
high treasurer of England. And but for the unexpected death of the Prince 
of Wales, — he would have been his chief counsellor, and the foremost among 
the fathers of the kingdom. How was it, that his great genius, his mas- 
terly eloquence, his unsurpassgaj^ skill in diplomacy and statesmanship, — 
did not give life to the Tory party, nor gather and shape the elements of 
influence to further its plausible and desperate schemes ? When men of 
eminent ability and vast acquirements, such as Wyndham and Murra}^, who 
were prepared and read}^ to follow his lead, and to uphold the Torj^ polic}', 
and with the possible chance of controlling the crown, it may be said that 
no man could have more flattering prospects of success, so far as success 
could be secured by genius, birth, rank and wealth. But all these did not 
avail him. His motives were those of personal ambition. His policy of 



1 It would almost seem that the issue of important trust, though with little apparent 

this princess was deemed by Providence too probability of being called to exercise it, the 

central a branch of the Stuart family, to be Princess Anne having been no less than 

entrusted with the newly renovated consti- seventeen times pregnant. — George IIL^ 

tution. A more distant connection had Court and Family^ Vol. i, p. 21. 
already been specially trained for this most 



584 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

government was but a scheme of arbitrary power. He believed in a party 
that promised everything, and fulfilled nothing. 

To employ the truthful language of Cooke, — " Bolingbroke's life had 
been a life of slavery to his party. He had joined it when recovering from 
its prostration under William, and reviving under the warming smile of a 
Tory queen ; he had assisted to revive its spirit, and bore part in the rapid 
assault by which it had recovered the power and emolument of ministerial 
rule ; he took the lead in the bold counsels, the dark machinations, the 
unscrupulous deeds by which it attempted to perpetuate its dominion : he 
shared its prosperity — he was crushed b}^ its fall. Still, while trembling 
for his life and meditating flight, the grief of his soul was, ' that he saw 
the Tory party was gone.' He had risked and lost his honors and his 
fortune in its service — he was ready to stake his life. At its command he 
joined the pretender ; and if his sword was not drawn in the rebellion of 
1715, it was only because the weight of his influence, at the French court, 
was more A^aluable than the service of any single arm. As he espoused, 
so he quitted the cause of the Stuarts, when he found that success was 
hopeless, and that the alliance of the pretender was a burden, not a benefit, 
to his party." * * * " But the power of his intellect remained, by 
that he contrived what others sliould execute : his magic power over the 
pen was not taken from him, for the spirit of Whiggism forbade the press 
should be fettered — with this weapon he labored for six and twenty years 
in the cause of his party. He scrupled at no disguise ; he left untried no 
stratagem to gain for it popularity. He proclaimed it dead, and repro- 
duced it with the mask of patriotism. He allied it with its rival, and 
declared that all distinctions had ceased : he gained for it a powerful 
patron, and hoped that he had at last succeeded. But in vain — the mask 
was torn off, the alliance was repudiated — the patron died. The veteran 
Tory was disappointed, but not dismaj'ed. Under the weight of accumu- 
lated sorrows, bowed down by family bereavements, and racked b}' excru- 
ciating diseases, he continued his service. The hand of death alone 
arrested the pen of the political pamphleteer." ^ 

There is no lesson in history more clearly defined by experience, and 
confirmed bj^ the wisdom of ages, than is to be found in the maxim, that no 
schemes of human agency can ever permanently succeed, in violation of 
the laws of God, or against the common good of mankind. 

How the author, just quoted, could trace the career of Bolingbroke with 
so much accuracy and eloquence, in his vain attempts to succeed against 
truth and knowledge ; and at the same time not be able to discover the 
obvious sources of Pitt's influence and success, it is difTicult to see.^ He 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 359. Thomas Erskine May. He says of Lord 

2 Similar errors are committed by Sir Chatham :— " Though in outward observ 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 585 

had the records of the two great parties before him, and the results of the 
two great minds of equal genius. One persistently travelled in the hidden 
and narrow paths of Toryism, and the other in the open high-ways of 
democracy. One was immortalized b}" defeat, failure and disappointment ; 
the other b}^ success, and the achievement of a nation's gratitude and a 
glorious name. 

Again, let the reader take a retrospective survey of another period of 
royalt}^, the reign of George II., and ask, what are its achievements, and 
"what are the fruits of Torjism ? All that was good in George II. ema- 
nated from his prejudices in favor of democrac3\ Even the faith of preju- 
dice, when connected with high motives, proves to be safer than the counsels 
of party when not based upon principle. The King is not quoted as repre- 
senting wisdom and intelligence, but as representing roj'alt}'. In the 
elements of success royalt}^, again, is found wanting. The Tor}- part}', 
again and again, is seen to be struggling for the ascendency, on an}^ terms. 
It is constantly thrown back by its errors, and strangled by its own perfidy. 
It alternately claims the desperate privileges of oblivion and death in its 
changes and disguises, and always with ultimate motives to power, but 
never permanently to reach it. Professedly the right arm of the Church and 
of the Crown, it has not hesitated to prostitute both when justified by 
emergencies it could not master. When both utterly failed in means to 
advance its despotic polic}^, it declared neutrality both in politics and relig- 
ion. If the watch-word could not be " Our party," then with amiable con- 
descension it was proclaimed to be "No part}-." The Church was read}' to 
follow the lead of Bolingbroke, of the King, or the Prince of Wales, though 
each was false to himself, and all were false to Christianity. 

Both King and Church were again saved by the faith and measures of the 
democratic part}'. The same trials of the government were passed through, 
as in former periods, and the same experiments repeated, ending onl}^ in 
failure and taxation. The opponents of democrac}-, whether in separate 



ances a courtier, he was a constitutional return to its principles. He uttered no 

statesman, opposed to government by pre- language "hoping to rule over all parties." 

rogative, and court influence. His career All his utterances, and they were made with 

had been due to his own genius : independent the splendid displays of genius and elo- 

of party, and superior to it, he had trusted quence, were appeals to his countrymen 

to his eloquence, his statesmanship, and to unite in the democratic faith. "Former 

popularity. And now, by breaking up par- little differences must be forgotten," he 

ties, he hoped to rule over them all. His said, " when the contest is ^ro aWs ez^/octs." 

project, however, completely failed." — The people failed in patriotic duty to them- 

Const. Hist., Vol. i, p. 35. selves, to their country, in not giving heed 

He framed no project to rule, — he pointed to his call. It was not his failure. The 

to the British Constitution. He broke up statesman of genius, that speaks the truth, 

no party, — he called a scattered party to can never fail. 



586 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

factions, or joined by tlie treacherous links of coalition, were influenced 
by the same motives and expedients that had always characterized them, — 
ending in humiliating defeat and disgrace. Constantly aiming to secure 
means to consolidate and perpetuate merely a party power, they not only 
neglected the ordinar}* and legitimate demands of the government, but 
regarded all constitutional restraints as obstacles to party loyalty. 

Thus, again, for a period of more than a generation are to be found the 
triumphs of democratic principles and measures. Royalty, in its weakness, 
imported and compounded with anti-national imbecility ; moved by per- 
sonal antipathies and preferences, and guided b}^ female infidelity, 
exhausted all its skill and means to master and fulfil its boasted mission, — 
and finally yielded to a democratic guardianship that the nation might be 
saved. 

Still failing to find the sources of safet}', in the direction of public 
affairs, in hereditary monarch}', the historical student is inclined again to 
repeat the question, and to pursue the inquiry — whether the successor of 
George II. gave an}- evidence of statesmanship that was either superior to 
that of democracy, or equal to the wants of the nation. 



GEORGE III. 

It was a propitious period for royalty to have a new start, a new trial, 
when George III. ascended the throne. The government had been slowl}^, 
but surely returned to a constitutional basis, and public aflTairs were direct- 
ed b}^ able and responsible statesmen. Party spirit had been tranquillized, 
and the success of democratic principles again led the Tories to repeat 
their favorite occasional theory, when powerless, that all political difierences 
had ceased. The British arms had added to the glory of England, and 
her flag commanded universal respect. The people were proud of their 
past achievements, and their loyalt\' gave them a cheerful spirit even under 
the heavy burdens of taxation. If their late sovereign did not make for 
himself an enviable personal record, or aid by his counsels the many happy 
measures and events of his reign, he certainly had some merit in his nega- 
tive qualities, in not always being obstinate in proportion to his stupidity. 
If his views were not suflficiently comprehensive to embrace a large policy 
worthy of England, — he certainl}^ was true in his attachments to Hanover. 
This attachment was as natural as it was limited. If he could not under- 
stand such a man as William Pitt, and his chosen associates,^ he had 



1 His character is aptly given by Thackeray: not like Eox; he did not like Reynolds; he 
*' Like other dull men, the King was all his did not like Nelson, Chatham, Burke ; he 
life suspicious of superior people. He did was testy at the idea of all innovations, and 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 587 

prudence enough to give up his favorites when he could not help himself. 
He was read}' to change his ministers, when demanded bj' the people, par- 
ticularly when those of his own choice had no power to serve him.^ If his 
generation was not distinguished by his own wisdom and acts, it was 
highl}' favored by the genius of other men, — in the arts, in literature and 
science. It has been seen, that royalty does but little to give shape and 
system to government, and here we have ample evidence that its errors and 
weakness are not permitted to lessen the sublime wa^'s of Providence. 

George Augustus, came to the throne as the successor to his grandfather, 
inheriting not onl}* the constitutional title to the crown, but succeeding to 
a condition of things which had been established b}* democratic statesman- 
ship. It was a merc}' added to a blessing to the young King to be per- 
mitted to have such a beginning, surrounded as he was, with wise advisers, 
and by such evidence of prosperity and of national greatness. 

With such privileges, however, it was his fearful responsibilit}' to adopt 
a different polic}" and to risk new counsellors. He resolved to be more 
than King, it was his ambition to govern. Not onl}' to govern by the 
discarded policy of the Stuarts, but to be, as declared by Fox, " his own 
unadvised minister." Here, too, was another opportunity for the Tory 
party to bury the past, to obliterate its record of chronic fallacies and pre- 
sumptuous claims, and to identify itself with a successful democratic faith. 
But in saving this, the reflective mind is instantly turned to the unsolved 
question of the prophet Jeremiah, — '^ Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or 
the leopard his spots?" Men and things must be studied as the}' are. 
Royalty detached from principle naturally seeks Toryism as an ally. 
When the prerogatives of the crown are regarded as above the legal requi- 
sitions of the constitution, then royalty and the Tory party are one, and 
their united influence is exerted against democracy. Both had before them 
the fruits of democracy in the prosperity and content of the people ; both 
had before them the barren fields ©f Toryism in the exhausted minds of 
disappointed men whose ambition assumed an offensive guardianship over 
the rights of the people. 

Under such circumstances, it should seem easy to determine what was 
the course of duty, and diflScult to see how ambition or prejudice could 
pursue a different path. The new sovereign was 3'oung and inexperienced, 
and though respectable in virtue he was not remarkable for capacity. It 
was his fate early to be placed under the guidance of preceptors who "filled 



suspicious of all innovators. lie loved i See Holt's Life of George III., Vol. 
mediocrities. He was a dull lad, brought p. G. 
up by narrow-minded people." — The Four 
Georges, p. 388. 



588 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

liim with predilections more befitting a despot of the Stuart line, than a 
successor of AVilliam III." A liberal course of education was marked out 
for the 3'oung Prince b}' the Bishops of Norwich and Peterborough, — but 
set aside bj^ the Earl of Bute, his governor, his early friend and compan- 
ion.^ In reply to a question put b3^ Dodington to the Princess Dowager of 
"Wales, " concerning the methods taken b}^ his preceptors, and what they 
read to him, or made him read : she replied, she really did not well know 
what the}' taught him ; but to speak freelj', she was afraid not much ; that 
the}' were in the country, and followed their diversions, and not much else, 
that she could discover ; that we must hope it would be better when we 
came to town." When asked confidentially, what was the Prince's real 
disposition, she answered, — " You know him, almost as well as I do. He 
is very honest; ^ but I wish him to be a little more forward and less childish 
at his age." At this time he was fifteen. 

At the age of seventeen, the Princess of Wales, his mother, thus gave his 
character : — " He was shy and backward ; not a wild, dissipated boy, but 
good-natured and cheerful, with a serious cast upon the whole ; that those 
about him knew him no more than if they had never seen him. That he 
was not quick, but with those he was acquainted, appliable and intelligent. 
His education had given her much pain. His book-learning she was no 
judge of, though she supposed it small or useless ; but she hoped he 
might have been instructed in the general understanding of things." When 
only ten years of age his grandfather sent Baron Stainburg to examine the 
children of Prince Frederic in their learning. In concluding the examina- 
tion of Prince George, he said to him, that he would tell the King what a 
great proficiency his Highness had made in his Latin ; but that he wished 
he would be a little more perfect in his German grammar, as it would be 
of signal use to him. " German grammar ! German grammar," retorted 



1 A work written by Father Orleans, a by his mother. Princess AmaHe, as soon 
Jesuit, was made the manual of the future as she was certain of her father's death, 
Sovereign. When his first tutor, Dr. sent an account of it to the Prince of Wales; 
Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, engaged Dr. but he had already been apprised of it. He 
Tucker to prepare an elementary work on was riding, and received a note from a 
the Principles of Commerce and of Political German valet-de-chambre, attendant on the 
Economy, the influence of the Earl of Bute late King, with a private mark agreed upon 
frustrated this design, and the worthy Bishop between them, which certified him of the 
resigned, as did also Lord Harcourt, the event. Without surprise or emotion, without 
Prince's governor. The Bishop of Peterbor- dropping a word that indicated what had 
ough was made preceptor to the Prince in happened, he said his horse was lame, and 
1753.— Ilolfs Geo. TIL Vol. i, p. 7. turned back to Kew. At dismounting he 

2 " The moment of the new reign," says said to the groom, " I have said this horse is 
Horace Walpole, " afforded a symptom of lame; I forbid you to say to the contrary.'* 
the Prince's character ; of that cool dissimu- Memoirs George III. Vol. i, p. 16. 
lation in which he had been so well initiated 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 589 

the Prince, " wh}^ any dull cliild can learn that." " This witticism," sa3's 
Holt, " which would have tickled any other man, gave great offence to the 
old monarch." ^ It was the grandfather's earnest wish that the Prince 
should marr}^ a niece of the King of Prussia, and he promised him splendid 
inducements. But when he found it was useless to persuade him, he relin- 
quished the design with the petulant remark, — " that the boy was good for 
nothing, and only fit to read the Bible to his mother." In a letter to his 
son, dated March, 1755, Lord Chesterfield says, — ''It is to be hoped, and 
is most probable, that the King, (George II.) who is now perfectly recov- 
ered of his late indisposition, may live to see his grandson of age. He is 
seriously, a most hopeful bo}^ ; gentle and good-natured, with good sound 
sense." ^ In the nursery Lady Hervey spoke of him as " the honestest, 
truest, most good-natured child that ever lived." "A singular instance," 
says an ungracious writer, " of a child in which a mother, and a Prince in 
which a courtier, could discover no promise of brilliancy." 

His early education and peculiar surroundings are well stated by Cooke : 
" George III. was in his twenty-third year when he ascended the throne. 
His education had not been that which is calculated to form a wise or a 
popular monarch. His tutors, the Bishop of Salisburj-, Mr. Stone, and 
Mr. Scott were men of sense, learning, and good intentions ; but they had 
little to do with the moulding of the mind of their pupil. This Prince's 
early youth had been passed in the nursery, amid the adulation of weak 
women and ignorant pages ; and he emerged from this tutelage only to 
become an instrument in the hands of his mother to work a pettj' opposi- 
tion to his grandfather.^ Being thus continuall}^ in the hands of persons 
whose interest it was to flatter and deceive, we cannot expect to find him 
possessed of an}- knowledge of mankind, or evincing any powers of self- 
control. His character is, nevertheless, a most singular consequence of 
such an education ; and we are rather inclined to wonder at finding him 
what he was, than disappointed at finding him what we could wish him to 
have been." The Earl of Waldegrave, who was familiar with his tastes and 
peculiarities, thus speaks of him when he was twenty. According to his 
authority-, " he possessed abilities which, although not excellent, wanted 
only a proper cultivation to be tolerable ; he was honest but not generous ; 
religious but not charitable ; willing to act justly, but not active to discover 



1 Holt's George III., Yol. i, p. 11. and in Westminster Hall, with these words : 

2 Holt's George III., Vol. i, p. 10. '■^ No Petticoat Government, No Scotch Fa- 
s Even in the first dawn of the reign — the vorite. An intemperance which proceeded 

Tories came to court with all their old prej- so far afterwards, that as the King passed 

udices. Prerogative became a fashionable in his chair to visit his mother in an evening, 

word. Party excitement commenced. "Pa- the mob asked him if he was going to suck? " 

pers were stuck up at the Royal Exchange WalpoWs Memoirs Geo, III. Vol. i, p. 21. 



690 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

what was just ; indifferent to pleasure, but averse to business ; not violent 
in his resentments, but moody, sullen, and unforgiving towards those 
who provoked or incurred his displeasure." ^ He describes him as " full of 
princel}^ prejudices contracted in the nursery, and improved by the society 
of bed-chamber women and pages of the back-stairs." 

If " love does reign in stoutest minds," as Spenser wrote, — it cannot be 
inconsistent to infer that it is quite as supreme in the weakest. But as in 
his anal3'sis, he speaks of one pound of gall to every drachm of honey, he 
evidently referred to the excesses of the passion, and not to the principle. 
Not unlike his royal predecessors, George HI. early discovered that he was 
not indifferent to " the faith and service " of that passion, which, though 
seeming so sweet in the bud, too often proves to be quick poison in the 
flower. At an early age be became fascinated with Hannah Lightfoot, a 
young and beautiful Quakeress, and it was said and believed by some that 
they were privately married in 1759. It was also asserted that they 
lived together, and had children. When her charms lost their freshness, 
she was married to another with such pecuniary considerations that it 
was not profitable to be too inquisitive as to particulars. The heart 
of the youthful Prince was then made captive by the charms of the 
beautiful Sarah Lenox, and but for the fact that she was a British 
subject, — he would have led her to the altar. Turned from this fascinating 
woman by the " stringent statute " that recognizes no dogma of first love, 
he almost immediately fell in love with Charlotte Sophia, daughter of 
Charles Lewis, the Duke of Miraw, the second son of the Duke of Meck- 
lenburg Strelitz. She was born in 1744, and though her family was con- 
sidered by some too insignificant for such high distinction, no state 
objections were interposed, and the treaty of marriage was signed at 
Strelitz on the 10th of August, 1761, and the Earl of Hardwicke was com- 
missioned to convey the royal bride to England. This not only proved to 
be a sensible choice, but great credit was given for high motives in making 
the selection.^ 

Such were regarded as the personal characteristics of George HI. when 
he ascended the throne. Here w^as another and a favorable opportunity 



1 See Hist, of Party, Vol. it, p. 396. ings of peace, and the ravages of war, — that 

2 Her Serene Highness was said to be the the young monarch was delighted. He "no 
delightof tlie "whole family for the sweet- sooner perused it, than he exclaimed to 
ness of the temper, and the quickness of her Lord Hertford, ' This is the lady whom I 
genius." When she was sixteen — she ad- shall select for my consort, here are lasting 
dressed a letter to the great Frederick of beauties ; the man who has any mind may 
Prussia, congratulating him on his victory feast and not be satiated.'" — Comi, and 
at Torgau. She expressed herself wMth so Family George III., Vol. i, p. 229. 
much elegance and propriety on the bless- 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 501 

for testing the value of roj-alt}-, as connected with a hereditar}' monarchy. 
If royalty- is a principle to be estimated independent!}' of capacit}', then its 
trial is best seen when not overshadowed bj' abilit}', nor disguised b}' too 
much knowledge. Such was the King, and the reader must constantly bear 
in mind, — the extent of his capacity', either for good or evil, in the admin- 
istration of the government of which he was so long to be the nominal 
head. 

What was such a man capable of doing? Did he become a leader of a 
part}', or b}' what part}' was he led ? No one claims that he originated a 
new party, or that he indicated by language or measures a new policy to 
be adopted. The Whig party was alive in its glory, and that glory was the 
true life of the nation as exemplified in its government. According to 
Bolingbroke and other great lights — the Tory party was dead. Its disci- 
ples had mourned its death and pronounced its eulogy. In their chastened 
condition they had professed good will to all men, and had adopted the 
millennial theory of no party. They could tread upon the lion and the 
adder and receive no harm. All men alike could trust and be intrusted, 
and do no mischief. All were amiable, honest and happy. But this was 
the torpor of exhaustion. It was not death. Such is the Tory's temper 
when out of power. He assumes meekness that he may not be watched, 
and professes democracy that he may again be trusted. He ceases action 
only when opportunity fails, but he never dies. He is heir to no such 
oblivion. The young Prince had been especially educated by the Tories 
for party purposes, that royalty might be recovered as a party ally. They 
had succeeded. AYhen it was found that the House of Hanover had produced 
a Tory King, — " the last hopes of the House of Stuart were destroyed." i 
The principal Jacobites were satisfied that they had found just as good a 
Tory in another family, and they cheerfully " went to court." ^ " The 
clergy," says Buckle, " abandoning the now hopeless cause of the Pretender, 
displayed the same zeal for the House of Hanover which they had formerly 
displayed for the House of Stuart. The pulpits resounded with praises of 
the new King, of his domestic virtues, of his piety, but above all of his 
dutiful attachment to the English Church. The result was, the establish- 
ment of an alliance between the two parties more intimate than any that 
had been seen in England since the time of Charles I. Under their 
auspices the old Tory faction rapidly rallied, and were soon able to dis- 
possess their rivals in the management of the government." ^ 

*' It was soon remarked," says Nicholls,* " that the Pelham party did not 



1 Buckle, Vol. i, p. 318. * Nicholls was a moderate Tory. lie was 

2 Ibid,— Horace Walpole. M. P. in the loth, 16th and 18th Parlia- 

3 Buckle, Vol, i, p. 319. ments. 



592 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

possess the partialit}^ of George III. in the same manner as they had pos- 
sessed that of George II. ; and the Tories saw with pleasure the removal of that 
proscription b}' which they had been so long oppressed. In one word, 
the nation was intoxicated with loyalty.^ But those who approached 
the court more nearly, perceived circumstances which filled them with 
apprehensions." ^ 

George III. derived his earl3^ impressions of government from his 
mother. She was a woman of superior mind, and had been educated in 
the court of her father, the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, where she had been 
accustomed to see unrestrained exercise of the sovereign power, — in a ver^^ 
different way than that she found in England. In Saxe-Gotha sovereignty 
is property : in Great Britain it is magistracy. A petty German sovereign 
is not a magistrate ; he is rather the proprietor of the soil and of the 
inhabitants.^ 

When the Princess Dowager of Wales came to England, and saw how 
George II. was controlled by his mistresses and ministers, it was natural 
that she should have a feeling of surprise, mingled with indignation, in her 
first experience at a court so imposing, and that she should impress the 
lesson upon the mind of her son, as she often did : — " George, be King." ^ 
Such teachings were certain to have their influence. 

It was a subject of national congratulation that the young King was born 
in England, and his advisers did not omit to supply language recognizing the 
fact in his first speech to Parliament. He was made to say, — " Born and 
educated in the country, I glory in the name of Briton." It was to be 
expected that such an expression should please the nation, for the House 
of Brunswick had thus far been particularly unfortunate in its special 
devotions to Hanover in preference to St. James. This expression was 
censured by the Earl of Hardwicke, as an insult to the memory of the 



1 Since writing the above, the author has ernment. In a good cause their active 
read with pleasure, a book entitled "The support may be relied upon ; and even in a 
Constitutional History of England, Since bad cause, their prejudices have more often 
the Accession of George III. — 1760-1860," been enlisted in favor of the government, 
a work of ability and historical accuracy, than against it. — Vol. i, p. 5. 
by Sir Thos. Erskine May. After speak- 2 *' Recollections, &c.," Vol. i, p. 3. 
ing of circumstances favorable to the crown, ^ gee Nicholls, Vol. i, pp. 5, 383. 
he adds : "To these sources of influence <* The King, it was given out, would he 
must be added the loyalty of the British King, would not be dictated to by his minis- 
people. He must indeed be a bad king, ters, as his grandfather had been. The 
whom the people do not love. Equally re- prerogative was to shine out : great lords 
markable are their steady obedience to the must be humbled. — Walpole's Memoirs 
law, and respect for authority. Their sym- George III., Vol. i, p^ 124. 
pathies are generally on the side of the gov- 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 593 

late King. That it was uttered for political effect, and without sincerity-, 
may be inferred from the fact, that although George III. did not visit 
Hanover, he sent all his younger sons there to be educated, and he was as 
much a German in his feeling and policy as ever his grandfather was. 

Soon after his accession to the throne, Lord Camden remarked to a 
friend, — " I see alread}', that this will be a weak and an inglorious reign.'* 
"What could be expected from a boy," is the emphatic language of Horace 
Walpole, " locked up from the converse of mankind, governed by a mother 
still more retired, who was under the influence of a man that had passed 
his life in solitude, and was too haught}^ to admit to his familiarity but half 
a dozen silly authors and flatterers ? Sir Henry Erskine, a military poet. 
Home, a tragedy-writing parson, and Worsely, a rider of the great horse 
and architect, were his principal confidants. The nation was soon governed 
accordingl3\" ^ When asked what he thought of the 3'oung king, Charles 
Townshend replied with an obvious impatience, — " He is obstinate." Select- 
ing as he did Lord Bute as his confidential adviser, and apparently submitting 
himself to be guided by his proud mother, — he was generally regarded as a 
weak man. Of this it is difficult to say when it is so easy for men to make 
a great character out of little or nothing, with motives to accumulating a 
fictitious influence they design to control. 

It was believed by Edmund Burke, that the plan of an interior cabinet, 
as it was termed, was formed during the lifetime of Frederic, Prince of 
Wales. " The reign of George III. has from its commencement," says 
^Nicholls, " exhibited a struggle between the King's personal wishes, and the 
opinions of his ostensible ministers. The two first wishes, which he seems 
to have entertained, were to break down the power of the Pelham faction, 
and to restore peace. These wishes were judicious. But the instrument, 
which he employed to effectuate his objects, was unfortunately chosen. 
The Earl of Bute was not qualified to be a minister. He was removed ; 
and from the time of his removal we may date the establishment of the 
double cabinet ; viz. : secret advisers, and ostensible ministers." ^ Where 
incapacity is the recognized basis of rule, and imposition the source of 
safety, an interior cabinet becomes a necessity. In other words, to use the 
language of Lord Chatham, " Where disgrace is prudence, and where it is 
necessary to be contemptible," ^ those who solely rely upon disguise and 
management for success, — depend much upon secret preparations. One 
wrong step may warrant another as an act of prudence ; and a right step 
may be deemed inexpedient if it cannot be consistent!}^ followed by others 
to correspond. Expediency ignores the philosophy of sequences, and what 



^ Memoirs George TIT., Vol. i, p. 33. 3 Pari. Deb., Vol. xviii, p. 15L 

2 NichoU's Recollections, Vol. i, p. 385. 
3S 



59i HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

is i:>lanncd hy cunning may be continued by contrivance. To rely upon tlie 
certainty of principle ma}' not always be convenient, and there is but little 
safety in chance without much practice in its changes. 

The Pelham part}', sustained by Pitt, was too powerful to be lightly 
regarded, too well established to be suddenl}- changed. It was a perilous 
experiment with whatever motives it might be attempted. Early in 1761, 
the Duke of Newcastle sent for the Marquis of Rockingham. When he 
called he found the Duke excited, and read}^ in his habitual haste to make 
some communication of consequence. " We have received a message from 
the King," said he, " of great importance ; he wishes that the Earl of 
Holdernesse may resign the place of Secretary of State for the Northern 
Department, and receive in lieu of it the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports, 
and that the Earl of Bute may be appointed Secretar}' of State for the 
Northern Department, in place of Earl Holdernesse." When the subject 
was discussed the Earl of Hardwicke advised that the wishes of the Kino; 
should not be opposed. " This was the first instance," said he, " in which the 
King had interfered in the nomination of ministers ; and that resistance to his 
wishes might excite an ill will which thej' might afterwards regret." What 
could be more reasonable? What less could decency suggest, and yet it 
was opposed b}' the Marquis of Rockingham, who had the foresight to see 
that one wrong act might render it necessary to consent to another to pre- 
serve consistency. He asked them to consider, whether, " if the}' admitted, 
in February 1761, that the Earl of Bute was fit to be Secretary of State, 
they could say in the following year that he was not fit to be Prime Minis- 
ter ? ** 1 The advice of Hardwicke was followed. 

The Earl of Bute w^as appointed, merely to please the King. The King 
was permitted to do, by consent of his ministers, what they believed to be 
.an error before the appointment, and what he himself found to be after. In 
the same year Mr. Pitt was removed from office, " and every tool of gov- 
ernment employed to run down his character, and destroy his popularity." ^ 
What was amusing, " The old Duke of Newcastle was as much rejoiced at 
vthe removal of Mr. Pitt as any man." ^ He w^as relieved from the restraints 
of a superior mind. But, early in the following spring it was the unex- 
pected lot of the Duke himself to be removed, and the Earl of Bute appointed 
in his place, as First Lord of the Treasury and Prime Minister. 

The reader will distinctly bear in mind that for forty-five years, the Whig 
party had been in power.^ The party had committed errors, and in some 
.degree had tolerated wrongs, as all parties do. On the whole, however, it 
:had made for itself a glorious record. It had advanced the cause of consti^ 
tutional government, and given to the nation a substantial prosperity. The 



1 Nicholl's EecoUections, Vol. i, p. 8. 3 ibid, p. 9. 

^ Ibid. 4 Hist, of Party, Vol. it, p. 402. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 695 

public debt had been increased, it is true, but some of the causes of its 
increase were of an imperative nature. The true interests of the people 
were studied and protected.^ It was a period of practical democracy : 
where freedom, toleration, commerce, labor and skill were considerately 
protected and justly rewarded. '' In this period," says Hallam, " the seeds 
of our commercial greatness were gradually ripened. It was evidently the 
most prosperous season that England had ever experienced ; and the pro- 
gression though slow, being uniform, the reign perhaps of George II. might 
not be disadvantageously compared for the real happiness of the commu- 
nitj' with that more brilliant, but uncertain and oscillator}^ condition which 
has ensued." ^ The industrial statistics of Malthus fully confirm this opin- 
ion.^ The crown was divested of its power to oppress the subject, and its 
own safety in the house of Brunswick was firmly established.* War, in 
defence of constitutional government had asserted principles vital to 
national life and greatness, and peace had consented to no concessions 
inconsistent with national honor.^ Reforms were accomplished without the 
excesses of fanaticism, — and if corruption placed its foul hands on the faith- 
ful servants of the government, it was controlled as an enemy, but not rec- 
ognized as an all3\^ Diplomacy succeeded onl}^ when placed in able and 
honest hands, and if legislative wisdom was not brave enough to proclaim 
edicts of religious toleration, public opinion, sustained and purified bj- a 
democratic atmosphere, demanded and secured a tolerant practice. The 
freedom of the press was regarded as of vital importance to a constitutional 
government, in view of its future growth and continued life, and the cause 
of personal liberty was deemed the cause of public safet}-.*? Even the King, 
himself, and the Parliament were not above the sacred requisitions of the 
law, and legal rights and privileges were not denied to the vilest and mean- 
est subjects. 

In the person of John Wilkes, democracy had the power to move the 
nation, and to excite the world .^ He knew its strength and safety, though 



1 In 1714 the puUic debt was £54,145, 5 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1274. 
863, bearing an interest of £3,351,358. 6 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 414. 

Upon the close of the war in 1762, it "^ In 1738 a member of the House of Corn- 
amounted to £146,683,844, bearing an inter- mons complained, that *'the stuff whicli 
est of £4,840,821. The difference in the our weekly newspapers are filled with is 
rates of interest shows how rapid was the received with greater reverence than acts 
improvement in the public credit. See the of Parliament ; and the sentiments of one of 
*' History of the National Debt," and Sir those scribblers had more weight with the 
John Sinclair's " History of the Revenue." multitude than the opinion of the best 
7/zs/. o/ Par/y, Vol. ir, p. 408. politician in the Kingdom." Pari. Deb.., 

2 Const. Hist. Vol. hi, p. 401. Vol. x, p. 448. 

3 Malthus Polit. Econ. p. 279. Ccoke, 8 John Wilkes was the second son of a 
Vol. II, p. 417. wealthy distiller living in St. John's Square, 

4 Locke, quoted by Cooke, Vol. it, p. 412. Clerkenwell, but descended of a family of 



596 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



he ma}' not have alwa^^s honored its prmciples by pure motives and con- 
sistent practice. The crj' of " Wilkes and Liberty " did not make liberty 
responsible for the sins of Wilkes, but it gave him distinction inasmuch 
as he became the representative of freedom. If he doomed his own soul to 
the degrading slaver}' of his lusts and passions, let him be remembered 
as the brave soldier who was willing to battle against tyranny in the great 
cause of liberty. If the forty-fifth number of " North Briton " w^as con- 
demned b}' the King and Parliament to be burnt as seditious, and against 
the peace of society, it was because the author had no personal motives to 



that name long settled in Buckinghamshire. 
He was born in October, 1730. As lie early 
discovered superior ability, liis father be- 
stowed much care upon his education. He 
graduated with honor, and contracted friend- 
ships with many men eminent for their genius 
and learning. Gibbon, who passed an eve- 
ning with him in 1762, when botli were 
militia officers, says : "1 scarcely ever met 
with a better companion ; lie has inexhaust- 
ible spirits, infinite wit and humor, and a 
great deal of knowledge." That he was 
a profligate he did not deny himself. He 
was elected several times member of the 
House of Commons, and expelled; made 
an Alderman and Lord Mayor, and he filled 
other offices ; he was prosecuted for libel, 
sent to the Tower, declared an outlaw, and 
though not claiming for himself much 
goodness or wisdom, — he was the means of 
much discussion on the great principles of 
freedom. " The proceedings relative to 
Mr. Wilkes," says Bisset, " during the year 
1763, occupied the principal attention of the 
whole nation. The popular party repre- 
sented him as the champion of liberty, and 
the object of persecution on account of his 
patriotism. Every publication of which he 
was the subject, was read with astonishing 
avidity. Not the populace merely, but 
men of real talents and virtue, though they 
detested liis profligacy, considering the 
freedom of Englishmen as violated in his 
person, associated the idea of ' Wilkes and 
Liberty.'" 

After quoting the opinions of Gibbon, 
and saying that he considered his language 
"greatly exaggerated," Lord Brougham 
gives some amusing examples of his wit, 



and speaks of his undaunted courage. He 
says, "Neither politically nor personally 
did he know what fear was. Into no risks 
for liis party did he ever hesitate to rush. 
From no danger individually was he ever 
known to shrink." When coarsely asked 
by Lord Sandwich, " Whether he thought 
he should die by a halter or by a cer- 
tain disease?" he quickly said, — "That 
depends on whether I embrace your Lord- 
ships principles or your mistress." 

A "powerfully humorous" dialogue is 
given by Lord Brougham, on the authority 
of the Duke of Norfolk, which took place 
between Wilkes and Lord Thurlow, in the 
House of Lords, some years before the 
French Revolution : "When that consum- 
mate piece of cant was performed with all 
the solemnity which the actor's incredible 
air, eye-brows, voice, could lend the impre- 
cation : " — 

Lord TJiurlow, — "If I forget my sov- 
ereign, may my God forget me ! " 

" Wilkes, seated on the steps of the 
throne, eying him askance with his inhu- 
man squint and demoniac grin, muttered, 

'Forget you! He'll see you d d 

first.'" — Eminent Statesmen, Vol. ii, p. 
283. The name of Wilkes became so iden- 
tified with the cause of freedom, — the 
people of the United States gave his name 
to several towns and counties. In a town- 
ship of Pennsylvania — the people were 
divided as to the comparative merits of 
Wilkes and Col. Barre, — and they com- 
promised by uniting the two names — and 
they called it Wilkesbarre. It remains 
unchanged. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 597 

be prudent for himself, and was willing to proclaim unwelcome truths to 
those in povyer for the public good. If his motives were selfish, or unworthy, 
he had the merit of doing good to others, while he was false to himself. If 
he was willing to *identif3^ himself with an obscene " Essay on Woman," 
and the questionable practices of the " Mock Monks Club," it was not so 
much his design to encourage and perpetuate what was detestable and blas- 
phemous in sentiment, as to rebuke the cant and h3'pocrisy of those who 
were his companions in sin, and yet professed to be saints before the world. 
His sedition helped to remove Lord Bute from the office he had disgraced. 
His boldness, in claiming to be the champion of freedom gave courage to 
worthy men of unexceptionable lives to follow his examples of open and 
undisguised acts of patriotic dut3\ Whatever may be said of John Wilkes, 
all will admit, that he was strong only when he was true to principle, and 
like other men, weak, whenever he was false. When good men do bad 
things, it is from ignorance ; but when bad men do good things, their con- 
ceptions of knowledge are above their sense of dut3\ Their choice of means 
is a compliment to virtue. Their conduct is more beneficent to the world 
than selfish to themselves. 

These things, and this condition of things, are to be remembered in this 
connection, especially, that we may be enabled to see the vast difference 
between the doings of the Whig and Tor}^ parties. Tiie King was not 
placed upon the throne by any political part3\ The crown was his consti- 
tutional inheritance, made so b}- act of parliament. By legislation, he was 
the King of the people, but not of a part3\ But, like other men, he had his 
weaknesses, and was influenced by his passions and prejudices, and had 
been taught to believe that as his grandfather was a Whig, it was his duty 
to be a Tor}-. This was the logic of hate, and there was nothing in royalty 
to abate its force, or to guide its application. He did not hesitate an 
instant to give his entire confidence to the Tory party, and proscribe the 
Whigs. As soon as possible he displaced them. He became the nominal 
leader of a party he was willing to trust, for private reasons, but which as 
connected with public dut}-, he was unable to comprehend. An ignorant 
King without statesmanship, or an intelligent Prince without integrity, is 
an uncertain servant, and a dangerous master. 

If George III. was entitled to confidence, on account of his private 
virtues, so rare within the precincts of royalty, — his grandfather was 
entitled to still greater confidence for his foresight in respect to public 
polic}-. Both were partisans, by education, but neither was a statesman. 
What was accomplished by George II. by the aid of the AVhig part}', has 
been seen. What was done by George III., b}' the aid of the Tor}- part}', 
remains to be stated. " Men, not measures," is regarded b}' some as a safe 
maxim. With a statesman of comprehensive views, both men and measures^ 
would prove to be a more useful truth, and indicate a more practical course 



598 



HISTORY OF DEMOCKACr. 



of duty. In the choice of advisers, the errors of George II. were commit- 
ted by himself, and corrected by his party, the party of principle. The 
errors of George III. were committed by the influence of his party, the 
party of privilege and prerogative. In the one case the errors were repelled 
by a party faith founded on experience ; in the other, they were adopted by 
a party sympathy stimulated b}^ arbitrary power. The one succeeded 
because its designs were right and practicable. The other failed because 
its plans were wrong, and therefore impossible. Both commenced by com- 
mitting the same error, by selecting an incapable minister, and both were 
influenced by a woman. One on the line of dut3', the other against it. 
George II. was persuaded by his queen that Compton was not the right 
man, and that Walpole was. George III. was led by his mother to believe 
that no man could serve him so faithfully as Lord Bute.^ The one was 
influenced to correct his error, and to do right ; the other was required to 
do wrong, and not to alter. 

The duties imposed upon himself by George III. were both difficult and 
dangerous. His programme of a cabinet embraced a double wrong : to 
displace able men, who had succeeded, and to appoint inferior men of a 
part}^ who had always failed.^ He adopted the Tory fallacy of trusting 
men who had no sense of duty above obedience, no appreciation of power 
but in selfish and personal rewards.^ He saw the minister in the courtier — 



1 Walpole's George HI., Vol. i, p, 15. 

2 Cooke says, — "There is no reason to 
suppose that the individuals of one party 
were superior to those of the other (we will 
except Pitt). But the ambition of avarice 
of the Whigs were restrained by the princi- 
ple of their party. Many men who have 
little real piety assume its semblance, in 
order to conform to their particular sect. 
Whiggism imposes a similar obligation ; a 
man who enrols himself among that faction 
(party?) must at least speak and act as if he 
were a patriot." — Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 
424. This language is unjust. Not only 
to men of questionable character, but to 
men who are entitled to be ranked with 
Pitt. Hypocrites are to be found in all 
classes. The hypocrite who prefers to act 
with the good and patriotic, — is certainly 
superior to the hypocrite who chooses to 
act with men of an opposite character. 

3 The Tory party — that does not hesitate 
to usurp authority Avhen deemed necessary 
to protect itself, seldom fails to exercise in 



the fullest degree the legal power of re- 
moval and appointment for party reasons. 
In speaking of the sudden dismissal of some 
of the most distinguished statesmen from 
office, Sir Thomas Erskine May says, — 
" Nor was the vengeance of the court con- 
fined to the heads of the Whig party. Not 
only were all placemen, who had voted 
against the preliminaries of peace, dis- 
missed : but their humble friends and 
clients were also proscribed. Clerks were 
removed from public offices, and inferior 
officers from the customs and excise, and 
other small apjwintments, for no other 
offence than that of having been appointed 
by their obnoxious patrons. While bribes 
were lavished to purchase adhesion to the 
court policy, the King and his advisers 
determined to discourage opposition with 
unsparing severity. Great lords must be 
humbled, parties overborne, and Parlia- 
ment reduced to subjection." — Const. Hist. 
G. B,, Vol. i, p. 21. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 599 

that creature denominated b}^ the Bard of AA^on, more than three hundred 
years ago, " the caterpillar of the commonwealth." He saw the statesman 
in the '•'•favorite" of whom " it has been remarked," said Burke, " that there 
is no prince so bad whose favorites and ministers are not worse." He saw 
the legislator in the partisan, whose loyalty changes its face as often as for- 
tune turns its wheel and withholds its gifts. He saw the Parliament in 
the Tory part^', whose " weary labyrinths " of crafty management and 
proud perversit}', like odious weeds in the choicest garden, outlive the pro- 
ductive plants they spring up to choke. His ambition, as the born repre- 
sentative of roj^alty, was as much above his capacity to reach, as his 
conceptions of duty were below the highest standard of statesmanship. 
From nothing to nothing it is difficult to measure. From something to 
nothing is difficult to understand. He assumed to be the chief of a party 
he had not the ability to lead. As its nominal head, he could not hope to 
control it, unless it were reduced to his level by the appointment of abject 
partisans and inferior ministers. A headless party is a blind monster. It 
has no consciousness of purpose but to devour, no plan of direction but for 
prey. The ultimate fate of such a part}^ is like that of a shapeless raft 
upon the water, seized by adventurous thieves for its value, but who are 
powerless to guide or to save it. It floats with the prevailing stream, and 
by its ponderous gravity damages whatever it touches. It is turned, or 
dragged, or stopped by snags, or unyielding rocks, until it is broken into 
fragments, and its lawless wreckers are seen desperatelj- competing for the 
ruins. 

To decide upon such a man as Lord Bute for minister was equivalent to 
a dismissal of Pitt. His disqualifications were antagonistic to capacity 
and character. The strength of the one was fatal to the existence of the 
other. Neither Bute nor the King comprehended the conditions necessary 
to the life of the Tory party. To secure its continued ascendenc}^ was 
their sole purpose. Both were still more ignorant of the Whig party, 
whose rule the}' had been taught to oppose. Both were party men, and of 
the same part}', and 3'et neither was able to mark out the policy of the one 
or to comprehend the duties of the other. Their personal wishes character- 
ized their measures, and the Tories conformed to them. Not because they 
represented any principle of tlie constitution, but because they represented 
a part}'. Here was a chance government, and a chance part}-, to succeed a 
party whose outlines of duty had been defined for centuries, and a gov- 
ernment that had long been guided by the wise maxims of a constitution. 
Royalt}' was fettered by a party it was to lead, and the fettered monarch 
was made the leader of the party he proposed to follow. Thus both gov- 
ernment and party were without acknowledged leaders, and yet both party 
and government w^ere confined to the narrow channel of Lord Bute's mind, 
— i\iQ favorite of the King, the head of an "interior cabinet." 



600 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

Bute had the negative merit of not concealing his contempt for the pop- 
ular voice, and it was not singular that, though loved b}' the King, he was 
detested by the people.^ He was a handsome man, and the reputed lover 
of the king's mother. Through her influence at an early period, it was 
believed, he became the royal favorite. He was a Scotchman. This was a 
misfortune in England at this time. In addition to the arbitrary qualities 
of a Tor}', he was in his manners cold, haught}^, reserved and unconciliat- 
ing.2 He was easily deluded into the flattering belief that the friendship of 
the King would qualify him to be a popular minister. What could not be 
done b}' personal appliances was attempted by chicanery and questionable 
influences. To use the language of Horace Walpole, he was moved b}' the 
hallucinations of '' lofty ignorance," and satisfied in the belief that '' dis- 
tance and obscurity are sufficient characteristics of divinity." ^ He was 
read}' to promise, affirm, insinuate, or deny, whatever seemed to be neces- 
sary for the moment. Fear of consequences, such as are sure to follow acts 
of duplicity or perfidy, seldom disturbed his senseless equanimit}'. He 
" carried the King's ministers to market in his pocket," is the humorous 
remark of Lord Hardwicke;'' and he congratulated himself that he was 
prepared for any emergency. He was self-reliant as to party, though he 
had taken no part in politics. He had been associated with no politicians 
or influential families. By virtue of his personal relations with the King, 
he assumed to be general minister : ^ to make peace on the basis of policy ; ^ 



1 On Lord Mayor's day, 1761, it was said great degree their work, and considered that 
that Pitt was in the procession of the it had been provoked by his assumption of 
triumphal entry into the city. The people too great authority. They soon, however, 
crowded to do him honor with their shouts, discovered their error. The Earl of Bute 
** But, on the east side of St. Paul's Church- became as absolute as Pitt had been ; 
yard, some knowing hand stepped up, and invaded their departments, corrupted their 
looking full at the idol, pronounced, with secretaries, and established secret corres- 
a fine, hoarse, audible voice, — ' By G — d, pondences. He acted on the principle that 
this is not Pitt ; this is Bute, and be damned they were only responsible to the King, 
to him.' Upon this, the tide took another and he was the King's agent to declare his 
turn; and the bruisers' lungs being worn pleasure." — Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 
out, the shouts from the independent 405. See Hist, of the Minority, Chester- 
mobility were instantly converted into field's Characters. 

hisses, accompanied with a few vulgar say- ^ The King's speech to his Council was 

ings, as ' I) n all Scotch rogues ! ' — ' No drawn up by Lord Bute, and communicated 

Bute ! ' 'No Newcastle salmon ! ' — ' Pitt to none of the King's servants. It afforded 

forever ! '" — Chatham Cor., Vol. ii, p. 166. an early specimen of who was to be the con- 

2 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 080. fidential minister, and what measures were 

3 Memoirs George III., Vol. i, p. 144. to be pursued. " It talked of a bloody and 
* Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1330. expensive war, and of obtaining an honor- 
5 " Many of the Whigs," says Cooke, able and lasting peace. Thus was it deliv- 

** who still remained in the cabinet, thought ered ; but Mr. Pitt went to Lord Bute that 

that the dismissal of Pitt had been in a evening, and after an altercation of tliree 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 



GOl 



to propose taxes oppressive to the people ; ^ to guard the King's honor and 
redeem his questionable promises ; to stand between the King and his sub- 
jects ; to stipulate quarrels as preliminary to removals ; ^ to gratifj- servile 
retainers ; to dictate arm}' appointments — and, in fact, to do an3'thing 
required b}' the goverment. . Provided, however, the government demanded 
nothing adverse to the party he desired to revive in order to control, and 
provided his party quietly submitted to his will and dictation. His course 
excited general disgust. The people hated him, and it was deemed unsafe 
for him to show himself in public. His administration was derided as 
" the petticoat government," ^ and his measure for protecting the interests 



hours, prevailed that in the printed copy 
the words sliould be changed to an expen- 
sive but just and necessary war; and, that 
after the words honorable peace should be 
inserted, in concert with our allies. Lord 
Mansfield and others counselled these palli- 
atives too ; but it was two o'clock of the 
following afternoon before tbe King would 
yield to the alteration." — WalpoWs George 
III., Vol. I, p. 17. 

1 Before the King had completed the 
fourth month of his reign, the unpopular 
tax of one-half penny a pot on beer was 
imputed to Lord Bute. On the establish- 
ment of peace, the ministry resolved to 
avoid taxation as much as possible. The 
supplies were to be raised, first, by taking 
two miUions of the sinking fund ; secondly, 
by striking one million eight hundred thou- 
sand pounds in exchequer bills ; thirdly, by 
borrowing two millions eight hundred thou- 
sand on annuities ; and, lastly, by two lot- 
teries, for three hundred and fifty thousand 
pounds each. To pay the interest on these 
loans, an additional duty was imposed upon 
all wines of the growth of France, and in 
an inferior degree on all other wines. 
Another duty was added, which excited a 
ferment in the nation, viz : — four shillings 
per hogshead upon cider, to be paid by the 
maker, collected by the officers, and sub- 
jected to all the laws of excise. — IIoWs 
Life of George III., Vol. i, pp. 25, 102. 
In the cider counties they dressed up a 
figure in Scotch plaid, with a blue riband, 
to represent the favorite, and this figure 
seemed to lead by the nose an ass royally 
crowned. Horace Walpole thus speaks of 



Sir Francis Dashwood, the Chancellor of 
the Exchequer : — " Hitherto he had but just 
acted enough as minister, to show that he 
neither was one nor was fifr-to be one. The 
time was now come for opening the budget, 
when it was incumbent on him to state the 
finances, debts, and calls of government; 
and to chalk out a plan of proper supplies. 
All this he performed so awkwardly, with 
so little intelligence or clearness, in so 
vulgar a tone, and in such mean language, 
that he, who had been esteemed a plain 
country gentleman of good sense, said him- 
self afterwards, — 'People will point aitne, 
and cry, there goes the worst Chancellor of 
the Exchequer that ever appeared ! ' His 
famous measure was the tax on cider." 
Memoirs of George III., Vol, i, p. 152. 

2 Pitt became aware that a desperate 
cabal was already formed by Bute, for the 
purpose of changing the whole policy of the 
administration ; by which means he himself 
would be precipitated from power, and the 
glory of the nation tarnished and obscured. 
Nor was this disagreeable apprehension 
long in being reahzed. Lord Bute soon 
informed his friend Doddington, that Lord 
Holdernesse, then a member of the Pitt cabi- 
net, had agreed to quarrel with his associ- 
ates and resign. — Smucker's Four Georges^ 
p. 181. 

3 During Bute's administration, public 
caricatures, libels and pasquinades had 
been carried to an extreme audacity which 
had never before been seen in England. 
The uniform symbol by which he was 
known and ridiculed was a great jack-boot, 
which was usually accompanied by a petti- 



602 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

of the i)eople were held in such profound contempt, the word " economy ^^^ 
clothed in all its Imposing dictionary innocence, was publicly hissed from 
the stage. ^ 

Of course, Lord Bute had his servile and fawning admirers, as all officials 
have. Some of them were distinguished men. Providence seems to favor 
the groping disciples of error, weakness and absurdity, by gleams of intel- 
ligence, so that no part of humanity may wander beyond the cheering call 
of wisdom and of love. Every party, or sect, however small, has some 
one or more, above its level, to think and guide ; to strengthen and to lift 
it up ; to lead and go on. This is divine beneficence, ^y this bountiful 
provision, to borrow an agricultural term, the useless swamps and quag- 
mires of the moral world are recovered and utilized. 

Dr. Smollett not onl}- wrote " a highly wrought panegyric" on Bute, but 
gave it an artist's dark shade by abusing Pitt.^ " His partisans," says 
Bisset, '' have praised the tenacity of Lord Bute in his purposes, a quality 
which, guided b}^ wisdom in the pursuit of right objects, and combined 
with power to render success ultimately probable, is magnanimous firm- 
ness ; but without these requisites, is stubborn obstinacy." ^ 

Tenacity of purpose implies intelligent motives, deliberate reflection, and 
an ultimate judgment. These are characteristics of foresight, knowledge 
and wisdom. Nothing can be more sickening or discouraging to an honest 
man of intelligence than the contemplation of " the learned pate ducking 
to the golden fool," and of the veteran slave of ambition, who is read}^ to 
bow to the empty forms of greatness, and to cringe at the feet of weak and 
irresponsible authoritj-. Where mind is wanting, the passions rule. Where 
duty is not followed, truth becomes offensive. Truth and duty are 
obstacles to mere partisans. In the removal of Legge, the chancellor of 
the exchequer, there was both malice and fear. He was an uncompromis- 
ing Whig, a zealous supporter of Pitt, and had avowed his unalterable 
confidence in democracy .4 These facts afforded ample grounds for dis- 
missal, but his doom was made certain when it appeared that he was per- 
sonally offensive to the King, and had given offence to one of Lord Bute's 
relations seven years before. Revenge was too sweet to be easilj' given 
up when the dangers of duty could be removed by one and the same act. 



coat; and these were often hung upon a Georges,^. 195. See ^^Wrighfs History 

gallows, or consigned to the flames. The of England under the House of Hanover," 

names of the monarch, of his amorous Vol. i, passim, 

mother, of her favorite minister, and of his i Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1333. 

chief supporters were boldly and unscrupu- ^ Hist, of Party, Vol. hi. 

lously appended to the most abusive and s Parl. Deb,, Vol. xv, p. 1326. 

offensive strictures.— 2>r. SmucJce?''s Four * Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 370. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 603 

Legge was succeeded by Sir Francis Dashwood, " a man," it had been 
said, " to whom a sum of five figures was an impenetrable secret."^ 

Horace Walpole sa3^s, — " The late Prince of Wales, growing tired of 
Lord Bute, said to him, — ' Bute, j'ou would make an excellent ambassador 
in some proud little court where there is nothing to do.' ^ But for its char- 
it}^ this would have been a keen compliment for his lordship. And 3'et, 
with such a man before him, and Pitt and other master spirits constantly 
affording him ample opportunities for comparison, the King suddenl}^ sent 
orders to Lord Holdernesse to give up the seals of the Secretary of State, 
adding in conversation, " that he had two secretaries, one (Mr. Pitt) who 
would do nothing, and the other (Lord Holdernesse) who could do nothing ; 
he would have one, who both could and would." ^ This was Lord Bute. It 
seems sometimes to be almost like a joke, to see small minds aiming at 
great things, when small ones are bej'ond the reach of their capacitj^ 
There can be no law against endeavor, although there may be impassable 
limits to necessit}'. On the other hand, there is an instinctive magnanim- 
ity in great minds when dealing with small ones. Tliis is believed to be 
true of animals, as size is an essential condition of defence and attack. 
This is no chance provision of nature, for were it otherwise, companionship 
of mental exertion would be impracticable. This was the loft}' feeling of 
Pitt, just so long as he had hopes that he could save his country bj" aiding 
the government. In no sense can greatness be humiliated hy duty. 
Greatness ceases when duty is surrendered to ignorance, or when it is sub- 
ordinated to crime, or to selfish ends. In addition to his intense feeling of 
loyalty, and devotion to the crown, he was conscious of surpassing ability 
to serve the nation. He scorned to notice the petty animosities and jeal- 
ousies of politicians, of either part}-, so long as they did not go below the 
surface of things, and indulged in innocent personalities. Though they 
were doing but little good, they were doing no serious harm. Their mis- 
chief seldom had the merit of any quality above that of unintentional 
neglect of duty. The}- simply stood in the way of abler and better men. 
It is true the government did not stop, but its continued vitality was one 
of those mysteries of Providence which time may remove, but which no 
man, with prescient power, can solve. Perhaps, as a vacuum finds a useful 
place in machinery, it may have an allotted place in mind. Sureh', the 
wrath of man shall praise the Lord, — and in this declaration consolation 
is always to be found in the walks of poverty, whether in the barren places 
of thought or of possession. 

With all the austere qualities of Pitt, which marked his course as a public 



1 Walpole's Memoirs George III., Yol. 2 Walpole's Memoirs George III., Vol. 
I, p. 100. I, p. 179. 

3 Ibid, p. 36. 



CO-1 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

man, lie never compromised the dignit}- of dut}', or sacrificed public 
interests hy neglect. Ha was alwaj's read}' to act, when action was a 
propriet}'. Because others were incapable and therefore inactive, was no 
reason wh}' he should withhold his counsel when asked by the King, even 
if it was not appreciated, and he was personally' disliked. With him, others 
could do but little except to follow ; and it was a striking example of human 
feebleness that Bute was appointed to assume control where he would be lost 
even with a guide. When Pitt saw the cabinet 3'ielding to the prerogative 
power and guided by Tor}' influence ; when he saw great questions of state 
discussed with an earnest endeavor, but decided in accordance with secret 
and premeditated schemes ; when he became satisfied that it was his 
outward popularit}', and not his wisdom the}' wanted, and that his influence 
w^as used to subvert the principles of democracy, and in violation of the 
constitution, he did not hesitate to resign. " lie thanked the ministers of 
the late King for their support ; said he was himself called to the ministry 
by the voice of the people, to whom he considered himself as accountable 
for his conduct ; and that he should no longer remain in a situation which 
made him responsible for measures he was no longer allowed to guide." 
Lord Granville, who was still president of the council, replied to this 
declaration. " I find," said he, " the gentleman is determined to leave us ; 
nor can I say I am sorry for it, since he would otherwise have certainly 
compelled us to leave him ; but if he be resolved to assume the right of 
advising his majesty, and directing the operations of the war, to what 
purpose are w^e called to this council ? When he talks of being responsible 
to the people, he talks the language of the House of Commons, and forgets 
that at this board he is only responsible to the King." ^ 

Such was the language of a Tory in reply to a democratic speech of 
Pitt. It would have been more decent if it had been uttered by one who 
was entitled to respect. From Granville it inspired no sense of duty. And 
yet, he truly represented his party. He looked to the King, but cared 
nothing for the people. " What can be more conclusive," says Cooke, " as 
evidence that the Tory spirit had gained an ascendancy in the Cabinet, 
than the contrast between these two speeches. Pitt avows himself a min- 
ister created by, and dependent upon, the people ; Granville boasts 
that he is responsible only to his King: the Whig is driven from the 
council — the Tory remains. Pitt received, upon his retirement, a pension 
of £3,000 a year for three lives, and a title for his lady. No man 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 404. bride, and his cabinet, were scarcely 

The resignation of Pitt was regarded as a noticed ; while Pitt's entrance was greeted 

hational calamity. Soon after, the King by long and loud acclamations. — Dr, 

dined at the Guildhall. It was the Lord Smucker, p. 186. 

Mayor's Day. The monarch, liis young 



GEORGE THE THIRD. , 605 

was ever more absolately entitled to the recompense he now received. "i 
Pitt was soon followed in his retirement by Earl Temple, Duke of 
Newcastle,^ and Duke of Devonshire.^ All Whigs, who refused to deny 
their principles, were removed, and their places filled with Tories. The 
party in power knew its own weakness, its odious reputation, and publicly'' 
acknowledged it by indirectly attempting to change its name. The}^ wanted 
no additional evidence that it was hateful to the people. The new name 
was apparentl}^ modest and unpretending, and yet its narrow pretence 
conveyed much meaning. To be called " the King's friends," was a double 
admission of wrong. It was placing personal relations above those of 
citizenship, and erecting a private rather than a public standard of dut}'. 
Thus, the broad and general views of the King, as made known in his 
proclamations against vice, and in favor of virtue, culminated in a narrow 
faction of the Tor}^ part3^ As it became all Tory, and followed an 
administration that was all Whig, it is eas}- to note the difference between 
the two, — to see what they proposed to do, and could not, and what they 
promised to perform, and did not. Their professions of strength ended in 
weakness, and their profound convictions of duty in the necessit}' of reform 
and economy, in corruption. It was an extraordinary example of weakness 
brought in proximity with that of strength. The two parties were placed 
in contrast. 

For a time the government was carried forward upon the track upon 
which Pitt had placed it. The Whigs were gradually' retired from official 
position, and the party was slow to discover the extent of the schemes of 
projected change. The necessity of an organized opposition was not 
readily seen. Besides, it was not an easy matter to turn the Whigs against 
the house of Brunswick. The throne had been established by them on the 



1 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 405. "In ambition, — "Yes, yes, my lord, I am an 
thirteen months," says Sir Thomas Erskine old man; but yesterday was my birth-day, 
May, " he had been groom of the stole, a and I recollected that Cardinal Fleury 
privy councillor, ranger of Richmond Park, began to be prime minister of France just 
Secretary of State, and Premier ; and these at my age." — Wdlpole's George III., Vol. 
favors were soon followed by his installa- i, p. 107. A pension was proposed, but it 
tion as a Knight of the Garter, at the same was promptly declined by the Duke. 

time as the King's own brother, Prince ^ Xhe Duke of Devonshire was removed 

William." — Const. Hist. G. B., Vol. i, p. from all his employments which depended 

19. upon the crown. This attack upon a noble- 

2 The Duke acquainted the King (May man who was undistinguished by ambition 
14, 1762) that he would resign, who or party violence, only to be accounted for 
answered coldly, — " Then, my lord, I must by the circumstances of his being the repre- 
fiU up your place as well as I can." Lord sentative of an illustrious Whig family, 
Bute had the ill-natured arrogance to com- denoted the sweeping policy of the new 
pliment him on his retirement: the Duke premier. — ZTis^. o/ Par^y, Vol. n, p. 406. 
replied with spirit that marked his lasting 



606 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

democratic basis of the Revolution, and tlie}^ were not prepared to find a 
Tory in the descendant of a Democrat, Avho was the acknowledged repre- 
sentative of the Protestant succession. B}^ slow degrees, however, they 
were compelled to witness events which the}* had not anticipated. The 
people were startled and alarmed at changes which no sound judgment 
could have predicted. Measures were adopted which indicated an ignorance 
and recklessness totally inconsistent even with party prudence. The 
Commons sustained the ministers in their fluctuating movements, and voted 
against the great statesman of the age when he was no longer minis- 
ter.^ Peace was made when war was impossible, for the want of 
means,^ and treaties modified or violated for want of wisdom to execute 
them without dishonor.^ Favoritism commenced its withering process of 
quick congestion, and placed the young King in the complicated and 
bewildering mazes of error. He was involved in obligations which he 
could not fulfil, and be true to the constitution, — and which he could not 
violate without personal treachery. Principle was not permitted to raise 
its standard, nor wisdom to denote its action. Party, assuming power, not 
for the good it consciousl}^ designed to do, but for the sole privileges of 
unlicensed authority", — essaj^ed aimless flights on pinions that had been 
clipped, or dislocated for centuries, and lighted upon broken and deca3'ed 
limbs that were falling without the force of additional weight. The 
ground was too solid and immovable to rest upon. Unchangeable identity 
and locality were fatal to continued safet3^ 

The favorite, with an alarming sense of incapacity to preserve the 
confidence of the King, if he attempted statesmanship with his superiors, 
suddenl}' resigned.'^ Whether he resigned with motives to duty, to give up 
what he was unable to accomplish ; or to evade what he could not under- 
stand ; whether he was impelled b}' a pride that was superior to his wisdom, 
to avoid humiliating results be3^ond his courage to bear, or to please the 
King who msiy have thought he should lose the friend if he attempted to 
save the minister, — it is quite unnecessar}^ to decide. He had the full 
benefit of all such conjectures, not only from his enemies but from his 
friends.^ Though he gave his reasons with an apparent candor and self- 



1 Hist, of Party, Yol. hi, p. 21. and was raised to the upper house, by the 

2 Ibid, p. 19. title of Baron Holland. Sir Francis Dash- 

3 Ibid, p. 17. wood, on resigning the chancellorship, was 
'i See Walpole's George III., Vol. i, p. created Baron le Dispencer. The Earl of 

88. Also, Correspondence of Pitt, Vol. ii. Sandwich, who possessed neither popular- 

p. 218. ity, ability or virtue, was made first lord of 

5 George Grenville was Bute's successor, the admiralty. If we were to believe the 

He had been a Whig. Lords Egremont tithe of what is alleged in the North 

and Halifax continued secretaries of state. Briton's notes to the poems of Churchill, 

Fox continued as paymaster of the forces, against Lord le Dispencer and others, we 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 607 

abasement, but few gave him credit for sincerit}-. " Having," said he, 
" restored peace to the world, performed his engagements, and established 
a connection so strong as no longer to need his assistance, he would now 
depart to the domestic and literary retirement which he loved." ^ This was 
the language of pride and party, addressed to those whose interests warped 
them to believe him. Before he retired, in a letter to one of his friends, he 
said : " Single, in a cabinet of my own forming ; no aid in the House of 
Lords to support me, except two peers [Lords Denbigh and Pomfret] ; both 
of the secretaries of state silent, and the lord chief justice, whom I m3-self 
brought into office, voting for me, yet speaking against me ; the ground I 
tread upon is so hollow, that I am afraid, not onl}' of falling myself, but of 
involving m}^ royal master in my ruin. It is time for me to retire." ^ This, 
indeed, appeared to be the language of integritj', and it was probably 
addressed to one he had no motive to influence, or if he had, over whom 
he had no power, but the power of knowledge. 

When Pitt resigned, it was said that he went out " carr3'ing the Earl of 
Bute upon his back, and sinking under his burden." This was represented 
in caricatures of the time.^ There was doubtless som^e truth in this asser- 
tion. It was believed b}' some that the plans of Bute were known to Pitt. 
After his resignation, it was well known to all that he was the first to make 
an appeal to Pitt to strengthen the cabinet and to save the government. 
He saw that a weak King and an ignorant minister, with such as they had 
invited to participate in the direction of public affairs, were really incapa- 
ble of protecting the nation in its varied wants and interests. If Lord 
Bute, in his own person, afforded an example of inefficienc}^ in public 
affairs, it is certainly creditable to his ordinary judgment that he was so 
graciously prepared to retire. It was natural for him to prefer to nego- 
tiate with such a man as Pitt, who had no equal, than to seek aid from 
others of his own class, and who were universally known to be the inferiors 
of the great statesman. By doing this, he gave character to his resigna- 
tion. In no other way could he act so wisely — for while he was publicly 
striving to place the government in the ablest hands, he was indirectly 
conciliating his enemies. The}^, having lost all respect for the retiring 
minister, could but approve his disposition to negotiate a union between a 
king they had good reasons for not trusting, with the only statesman the}^ 
were willing to trust. It is true, by doing this, Lord Bute was false to his 



must believe that most of the public men of of the 3Iinority, and other pamphlets of 

this time were, in private life, monsters, the day. 

The profligacy of the Earl of Sandwich and i Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1326. 

Lord le Dispencer is proved by a concur- 2 ibid, p. 1321. 

rence of contemporary testimony. See 3 Hist, of Party, Vol. ii, p. 403. 

Eist. of Party, Vol. hi, p. 2Q, and Hist. 



608 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

party. But, how could he do otherwise without additional disgrace? He 
had exhausted his own means, as a Torj', and the means of his party, in 
serving the King. As he still enjo3'ed the confidence of his royal master, 
what could he do that would be so likely to redeem him in the public esti- 
mation, as to secure the cooperation of a statesman of unquestionable 
ability to save the government from ruin? The Tories, who had reputa- 
tions to lose, were unwilling to accept places in a cabinet formed by him, 
and he could see no safet}', either for the throne or himself, in a new minis- 
tr}' no better qualified to meet the wants and exigences of the nation than 
the retiring one. 

Though according to the record, he first approached Pitt to ascertain his 
willingness to meet the King, still it is probable that the interview was not 
without the royal assent. It was creditable to Lord Bute that he submit- 
ted to a necessity with grace and promptness. The Tory party had failed. 
He saw no escape from painful responsibility but in the entire transfer of 
public affairs to Democratic hands. It was a bold, but honorable move- 
ment for a partisan to make, if made from sincere convictions of duty. If 
he hoped to control by complimenting Pitt, and by indirect management 
and royal influence, to gain an advantage for the Tories, he soon found his 
mistake. Toryism and Democracy can never mix. Their elements are 
antagonistic : any surrender of the one to the other is fatal to both. 

This principle was well understood by Pitt. When asked to carry out 
Tory measures by Democratic means, or Democratic measures b}^ Tory 
means, he did not hesitate to decline any such impossible endeavor. Dem- 
ocrats cease to be Democrats the moment they attempt to be moderate 
Tories, or no-part}^ men. When Tories profess Democracy, they are gen- 
erally^ impostors. Neutrality in matters of principle is a crime, and party, 
in matters of practice, is a duty. Not party directed to particular or sel- 
fish ends, but to the general good. " No man can serve two masters." 
Instead of connecting his honor with the duties of the crown, and regard- 
ing the crown as the constitutional head of the government, professedly and 
reall}' Instituted for the general welfare of the people, the King confounded 
his personal honor with his official obligations. His oath of office was for- 
gotten. Magistracy is impersonal. The honor of the man is merged in 
the obligations of the public servant.^ Service to the people implies integ- 
rity in practice. Impartial justice is alike due to all. Government cannot 
stand on a narrower basis. Both the King and Lord Bute were obviously 
impressed with the grave emergencies of the nation, and with the fearful 



1 This subiect is well expressed in Addi- The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, 

^1 nas suojecr is wen expressea m Aaai- ^^^^ ^j^^ ^^^ strengthens virtue where it meets her, 

son's Cato : — And imitates her actions where she is not : 

" Honor's a sacred tie— the law of Kings, It is not to be sported with." 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 609^ 

necessity of change of men and measures. They turned from the miserable 
dependencies which promised everything and yielded nothing, — because 
they could master them any way. They had strength and wisdom before 
them, — but these they feared. The King wanted the power of Pitt without 
his party, and Bute wanted the aid of all parties but without the principle 
of any. 

The substance of the interview between Lord Bute and Pitt, and of Pitt's 
conference with the King, is given in a letter of Earl Hardwicke to his son, 
Lord Roj^ston. It is dated Sept. 4th, 1763. The instincts of Lord Bute 
were in advance of his discretion, for at first he asked through the Lord 
Mayor for a private interview with Pitt " at some third place." But when 
he reflected upon the out-spoken character of Pitt, and that his policy 
demanded no concealments, he corrected himself by making another appoint- 
ment, saying — " that he loved to do things openly, and would come to Mr. 
Pitt's house in Jermyn Street in broad day-light."^ The meeting took 
place accordingly and with much courtesy. Lord Bute " franklj^ acknowl- 
edged that his ministry could not go on, and that the King was convinced 

of it, and therefore he (Lord B ) desired that Mr. Pitt would open 

himself frankly and at large, and tell him his ideas of things and persons 
with the utmost freedom." At first he was disinclined to convey views 
which might or might not be fully understood or appreciated by a man who 
had been placed above his own level, and was unconscious of the extent of 
his own ignorance. Still, as he had no opinions to disguise, or special 
interests to promote, he responded to the demand with unreserved freedom. 
The errors of the administration were pointed out, and remedies suggested 
in no ver}^ complimentary terms, and yet with marked civilit3\ It was said 
that " Lord Bute heard with great attention and patience, entered into no 
defence, but at last said, — ' If these are 3-our opinions, why should you not 
tell them to the King himself, who will not be unwilling to hear you?' 
' How can I, my lord, presume to go to the King, who am not of his council, 
nor in his service, and have no pretence to ask an audience. The pre- 
sumption would be too great.' ' But suppose his Majesty should order 3"ou 
to attend him,' resumed Lord Bute, ' I presume. Sir, you would not refuse 
it.' 'The King's command would make it my duty,' replied Pitt, with a 
dignified energj^, * and I should certainly obey it.' " This interview was 
immediately reported to the King, on Thursdaj^ evening, and Mr. Pitt 
received an open note from him requiring his attendance at the Queen's 
palace in the Park, at noon day, on the following Saturday. Thus, unholy 
secrecy attempts to disguise itself in what it cares not to hide, by open 
parade. It pleased both parties, but from opposite motives. At the 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1327. 
39 



610 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

appointed time, the great statesman repaired to the place of meeting 
through the mall in his gouty chair, the boot of which (as he said himself) 
*' makes it as much known as if his name was written upon it." " He was 
most graciously received," says the Earl of Hardwicke, " and his Majesty 
began in like manner as his quondam favorite had done, by ordering him 
to tell him his opinion of things and persons at large, and with the utmost 
freedom ; and I think did in substance make the like confession, that he 
thought his present ministers could not go on. The audience lasted three 
hours, and Mr. Pitt went through the whole, upon both heads, more fulty 
than he had done to Lord Bute." * * * 4; jj^ went through the infirmi- 
ties of the peace, the things necessary and hitherto neglected to improve 
and preserve it ; the present state of the nation, both foreign and domestic ; 
the great Whig families and persons who had been driven from his Majesty's 
council and service, which it would be for his interest to restore. In doing 
this he repeated many names, upon which his Majesty told him there was a 
pen, ink and paper, and he wished he would write them down. Mr. Pitt 
humbl}' excused himself, sa^'ing, that would be too much for him to take 
upon him, and he might, upon his memorj^, omit some material persons, 
which might be subject to imputation. The King still said he liked to hear 
him, and bid him go on, but said now and then that his honor must be con- 
sulted ; to which Mr. Pitt answered in a very courtly manner. His 
Majesty ordered him to come again on Monday, which he did in the same 
place, and in the same public manner." ^ 

The gracious manner of the King, his occasional questions and remarks, 
and apparent approval of suggestions which were made, — encouraged 
Mr. Pitt to hope that his advice would be taken.^ He so expressed 
himself to the Duke of Newcastle and others, and was prepared to hear at 
the next interview of an entire change of measures. In this he was 
disappointed. He was received with marked condescension, and the 
conference lasted two hours. To continue the language of the same 
author, " The King began, that he had considered of what had been said, 
and talked still more strongly of his honor. His Majesty then mentioned 
Lord Northumberland for the treasury, still proceeding upon the suppo- 
sition of a change. To this Mr. Pitt hesitated an objection, that certainly 
Northumberland might be considered, but that he should not have thought 
of him for the treasury. His Majesty then mentioned Lord Halifax for 
the treasury. Mr. Pitt said, ' Suppose your Majesty should think fit to 
give his lordship the paymaster's place.' The King replied, ' But, Mr. 
Pitt, I had designed that for poor George Grenville. He is j^our near 
relation, and you once loved him.' To this the only answer made was a 



1 Pari. Deb., Vol. xv, p. 1328. 2 See Cor. Earl of Chatham, Vol. ii, p. 88. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 611 

low bow. And now here comes the bait, — ' ^Vh}',' saj^s his Majesty, 
' should not Lord Temple have the treasmy ? You could go on then very 
well.' ' Sir/ said Pitt, in a decided, but respectful manner, ' the person 
whom you shall think fit to honor with the chief conduct of j^our affairs, 
cannot possibly go on without a treasury connected with him ; but that 
alone will do nothing. It cannot be carried on without the great families 
who have supported the Revolution government, and other great persons 
of whose abilities and integrit^:^ the public have had experience, and who 
have weight and credit in the nation. I should only deceive your Majesty 
if I should leave you an opinion that I could go on, and your Majesty make 
a solid administration, on any other foot.' ' Well, Mr. Pitt, I see, (or I 
fear) this won't do. My honor is concerned, and I must support it.'" 
Here was an interesting example of personal honor, allied with weakness 
and favoritism, placed in the balance against capacity and experience. In 
this ma}' be seen the wide difference between Toryism and Democrac}^ 

Another account of this interview is thus concluded bj^ Cooke, and on 
unquestionable authority : " Mr. Pitt named a great number of his 
supporters, but refused to draw out, upon the moment, a scheme of a new 
cabinet. All who voted for the peace, with the exception of the Duke of 
Marlboro' and Lord Halifax, he objected to, and declared that he would have 
nothing to do with the Duke of Bedford, or any Tory whatever. He had 
now discovered that a change had taken place in the King's intentions 
since the last interview, and that it was doubly necessarj' to be firm in his 
demands, and guarded in his concessions. At last, when it became plain 
that the only terms upon which Pitt would accept office were, the dismis- 
sion of his opponents and the appointment of his friends, the King replied, 
' Well, Mr. Pitt, I see this won't do ; my honor is concerned and I must 
support it : ' and again, more passionatel}', he declared, ' Were I to submit 
to such dictation, I had nothing more to do than to take the crown from 
ID}' head, place it upon j^ours, and then submit my neck to the block.' " ^ 

Thus was ended a conference, which, to use the language of the Earl of 
Hardwicke, was " as strange as it was long, for I believe it is the most 
extraordinary transaction that ever happened in any court in Europe, even 
in times as extraordinary as the present." He concludes the narrative in 
the ironical language of Terence, — " ^ Et sicfinita est fahula. Yos valete' 
but I cannot with a safe conscience add, ''plaudite."' ^ The Earl was 
evidently astonished at the recital of such disclosures. To him they 
appeared strange and even fabulous. And yet, such events are both natural 
and common in the political world, but they are not alwaj^s truh' reported. 



1 Histoiy of Party, Tot., iti,^. 36. sion of a Latin comedy by Terence. "Fare- 

^ " Vcdete acjplaudite "—vfaiS the oonclu- well, and applaud." 



612 HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 

The people are often made to believe, b}^ designing men, either too much 
or too little. Too much >\'hen they rely upon fiction for influence, too little 
when the}' fear the influence of truth. By thus blending fiction with truth, 
they extend the domain of part}', and multiply the chances of escaj^e from 
detection in their dishonest schemes. 

This period of England is particularlj^ interesting and instructive. It 
should be carefully studied and remembered. The causes of the American 
Revolution here culminated and took form. The motives and interests of 
the people became identified with public affairs, and public affairs with the 
extremes of part}'. Roj-alty with all the buo3'ancy and thoughtlessness 
of 3'outh, boldly asserted the strength of the government in the preroga- 
tives of the crown, and was so confident in itself that it forgot the 
wisdom of capacity and experience. It looked for counsel in obedient 
weakness, and for aid in obedient part3\ The Tory party was again 
revived, and endowed with a new life, promising all that could be 
hoped for, and all that royalty could ask. Toryism thus restored, — the 
King was regarded as the vicegerent of God, the Church the spiritual 
l^rotector of ro3^alty, the Parliament the bod3'-guard of the Tory part3^, and 
the Arm3' and Navy the temporal forces of the nation — to do the bidding 
of the political hierarchy that assumed to dictate to the people in what 
manner the3'" might be permitted to do their own business. The people 
were to be guided, advised and aided, but not trusted. They were counted 
as faithful subjects only so long as loyalty to party was made the standard 
of lo3'alt3^ to the crown. The government was narrowed to a paternal 
basis, without the instincts of affection natural to paternit3^, and the Tory 
part3^ became the sole agent of its administration. The Constitution and 
the Laws were interpreted by a party majorit3^ in Parliament, and the people 
were made to believe that their will was the supreme executive of the land. 
Thus nominally and treacherous^ popularized, the Tory part3^ became the 
government of England, and the government itself an irresponsible 
t3'rann3'. 

It was a period of political darkness. The great Franklin saw it and 
called for candles.^ The gifted spirits of democrac3^ feared it, — and in- 



1 In a letter to Charles Thomson, dated joined by resolving in this act to settle the 

London, July 11th, 17G5, Franklin writes, — point. We might as well have hindered the 

*' Depend upon it, my good neighbor, I sun's setting. That we could not do. But 

took every step in my power to prevent the since it is down, my friend, and it may be 

passing of the Stamp Act. Nobody could long before it rises again, let us make as 

be more concerned and interested than my- • good a night of it as we can. We may 

self to oppose it sincerely and heartily, still light candles." In reply, Mr. Thom- 

But the tide was too strong against us. son says, "I much fear, instead of the 

The nation was provoked by American candles^ you mention being lighted, you 

claims of independence, and all parties will hear of the works of darkness," — 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 613 

voked the mercy of God and the help of man to avert the coming dangers. 
And here, what more appropriate than to pause and recite the beautiful 
lines of the poet : 

" Oh blindness to the future! kindly given, 

Tliat each may fill the circle mark'd by heaven : 

Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, 

A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, 

Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd. 

And now a bubble burst, and now a world." 

When man is doomed to tread the dark and perilous passages of life, 
Providence shields him by closing the book of fate, and spares him from 
looking upon the painful scenes which are to be disclosed by his own acts 
of perversity. The people of England were blinded by their own public 
servants, and b}' their acknowledged teachers of dut}'. Pride and ambition 
were enthroned in the high places of religion and patriotism, and party and 
passion presided in the temples of justice. And yet, there was a ray of 
light that encircled the globe, — and like the hoi}- star of Bethlehem, gave 
joy and courage to people of every clime. An illustrious few, the sons of 
no particular soil, and yet the jewels of their native land ; a gifted band 
of patriots, inspired by a Pitt, a Burke, and a Barre ; encouraged by a 
Camden and a Lafayette, guided and nerved b}' an Adams, an Otis, a 
Franklin, a Henr}-, a Jefferson, and a Washington, — were alive and awake 
to the imperative demands of humanity, and declared the truth in the 
boldest language, and in tones of terrible warning. But the light of their 
wisdom was only sufficient to give more frightful outlines to the darkness 
which enveloped the nation, and to add new frenzy to the existing Adolence 
of unthinking weakness, and to make it desperate. The few, indeed, may 
have had visions of revolution and civil war, but the manj^ unconsciously 
contributed their influence to render such calamities inevitable. 

Thus stood the two great parties of the world. They were of the same 
blood, and of the same nationality. The one confident and defiant, — 
boasting the questionable privileges of birth, of class and of power. The 
other, standing on the unchangeable foundations of justice, and demanding 
libert}- as their birth-right from God, and lawful protection as their in- 
heritance from the British Constitution. The King, not unlike the cham- 
pion of the Valley of Elah, whose sole trust vras in the giant's huge frame 
and muscle, sword and spear, — looked only to brute force and coercion to 



Sparks' s Franklin, Vol. i, p. 294. When of Parliament in regard to taxation, which 

the author speaks of the *' American was now the subject of dispute. — Ihid^ 

claims of independence," he alludes to the p. 295. 
claim of the colonists to an independence 



CM 



HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY. 



conquer freedom, and to enslave the brave and loyal subjects of his realm. 
His formidable hosts were boldly met by a band of heroes, who, like the 
joutliful champion of Israel, having faith in God, had no fear of man. 

Nothing that is truly good and great for humanit}' is impossible. 
Nothing seemed impossible to Pitt.^ Inspired by his love of truth and 
sense of duty, and by the patriotic spirit of his devoted wife,^ he saw and 
measured the rising difficulties and dangers of his country, and fearlessl}^ 
pointed out their causes and remedies. He asserted the dignity of the 
nation. He spoke for suffering and outraged humanity. His labors were 
for the world. He stood almost alone, and appealed to the spirit of de- 
mocrac}^ everywhere. He was congratulated b}^ distinguished men of his 
own country on his great power and influence in public affairs. They 
acknowledged his greatness, but they had not the courage to follow his 
counsel.^ He was better understood bj' a democratic people in the wilder- 
ness of America, and by the crowned heads of Europe.* than in his own 
narrow island home. 



1 In reply to a note from her husband, 
dated May 5, 1700, expressing an earnest 
wish to have her come to him the moment 
she had attended to her business, Lady 
Chatham says, — "Every minute between 
this and Monday is more than filled up, and 
they tell me I must stay longer. I adopt 
your rule, '■that nothing is impossible,'' and 
so remain fixed," — Cor. Earl of Chatham, 
Vol. II, p. 415. 

2 In a letter dated Feb. 22, 1766, Lady 
Chatham thus congratulates her husband 
on the vote of Parliament, on the 21st, of 
275 against 167, giving leave to bring in a 
bill to repeal the Stamp Act : " Joy to you, 
my dear love. The joy of thousands is 
yours, under Heaven, who has crowned 
your endeavors with such happy success." 
* * "1 cannot tell you with what pleas- 
ure my eyes opened upon the news. All 
my feelings tell me that I hate oppression, 
and that I love zealously the lionor of my 
dear husband." — Cor. of Earl of Chatham, 
Vol. II, p. 391. 

3 In a letter dated Aug. 21, 1766, Gen. 
Burgoyne thus writes to the Earl of 
Chatham: — " I entreat you, my Lord, to 
accept my congratulations upon your peer- 
age and upon your engaging in the admin- 
istration, as those of a man who takes the 
truest interest in everything that concerns 



your glory and satisfaction, and who looks 
up to your lights and counsels for the sal- 
vation of his country. I move not a step 
upon the continent without seeing the 
impression your lordship's name makes. 
It is a touchstone that no German hypocrisy 
can resist; and the conversation of every 
court, upon the present arrangement in 
England, betrays their disposition toward 
us." 

In a letter written at the Hague, on the 
29th of August, by Sir Joseph Yorke to Sir 
Andrew Mitchell, is the following passage : 
*'I am really concerned to see so many of 
the principal leaders of the Whig party 
retiring from business, which obliges our 
late Commoner to build upon a very narrow 
and uncertain bottom ; but this may, and I 
hope will, be remedied before the election 
of a new Parliament. Had he delayed 
taking the title till that event, I think 
everything might have gone on smoothly." 
— Cor. of Earl of Chatham, Vol. hi, pp. 
41, 43. 

4 Sir Andrew Mitchell, in a letter dated 
at Berlin, Dec. 6, 1766, to Lord Chatham, 
gives an account of an interview with the 
King of Prussia. In repl}'^ to his strong 
assurances of Lord Chatham's great influ- 
ence with the government, the King 
answered, "I have a very high opinion of 



WAR AND REVOLUTIONS. 615 

It is not the purpose of this work to notice the continued measures of 
the reign of George III., further tlian is necessary to elucidate tlieir 
results, as developed in the treatment of the American Colonies. The 
reader, it is to be hoped, will feel inclined to pursue the subject as he may 
have opportunities. The records are ample, and available to all. 

Before proceeding, however, to recite and discuss the events of the 
American Revolution, it is proper that some consideration should be given 
to the subjects of War, and Revolutions, — as they are recorded in the 
history of the world. As they are permitted to have a place in Providence, 
it is obviously important that a place should be assigned them in the 
studies of histor3\ These chapters will make the commencement of the 
Second Volume. 



Lord Chatham, and great confidence in agree with my accounts from England.* 

him ; but what assurances can you give me, I assured him of the truth of what I 

that he has power, and will continue in advanced, and that I believed the contrary 

office?" "I replied, I had not the least reports had been raised by your lordship's 

doubt of either, as your lordship was now enemies." — Cor. of Earl of Chatham^ 

the darling of the King and people. His Vol. hi, p. 142. 
Prussian Majesty said, 'That does not 



APPENDIX. 



" Having, in the seventh paper," (of the Freeholder) says Addison, 
" considered many of those falsehoods, by which the cause of our malcon- 
tents (Tories) is supported, I shall here speak of that extravagant credulity 
which disposes each particular member of their party to believe them. 
This strange alacrit}^ in believing absurdity and inconsistence, may be 
called the Political Faith of a Tory." 

He pursues this subject in the fourteenth number of the " Freeholder," 
from which extracts have already been made, and thus concludes : 

" Having thus far considered the political faith of the party, as it regards 
matters of fact, let us in the next place take a view of it with respect to 
those doctrines which it embraces, and which are the fundamental points 
whereby thej are distinguished from those whom they used to represent as 
enemies to the constitution in church and state. How far their great 
articles of political faith, with respect to our ecclesiastical and civil gov- 
ernment, are consistent with themselves, and agreeable to reason and truth, 
may be seen in the following paradoxes, which are the essentials of 



A TORY'S CREED.i 



" Under the name of Tories, I do not here comprehend multitudes of 
well-designing men, who were formerly included under that denomination, 
but are now in the interest of his Majesty and the present government. 



iPage 19. 

617 



618 * APPENDIX. 

These have ah'eady seen the evil tendenc}^ of such principles, which are the 
credenda of the part}', as it is opposite to that of the Whigs. 

" Article I. That the church of England will be always in danger, till 
it has a Popish King for its defender. 

" Article II. That for the safety of the church, no subject should be 
tolerated in any religion different from the established ; but that the head 
of our church may be of that religion which is most repugnant to it. 

" Article III. That the Protestant interest in this nation, and in all 
Europe, could not but flourish under the protection of one, who thinks 
himself obliged, on pain of damnation, to do all that lies in his power for 
the extirpation of it. 

" Article IY. That we may safely rely upon the promises of one, 
"whose religion allows him to make them, and at the same time obliges him 
to break them. 

" Article Y. That a good man should have a greater abhorrence of 
Presbyterianism, which is perverseness, than of popery, which is but 
idolatr}'. 

" Article YI. That a person who hopes to be King of England, by 
the assistance of France, would naturally adhere to the British interest, 
which is always opposite to that of the French. 

" Article YII. That a man has no opportunities of learning how to 

govern the people of England in any foreign countrj-, so well as in France. 

" Article YIIL That ten millions of people should rather choose to 

fall into slavery, than not acknowledge their Prince to be invested with a 

hereditary and indefeasible right of oppression. 

" Article IX. That we are obliged in conscience to become subjects 
of a duke of Savoy, or of a French King, rather than enjoy for our 
sovereign, a prince who is the first of the royal blood in the Protestant 
line. 

" Article X. That non-resistance is the duty of every Christian whilst 
he is in a good place. 

" Article XI. That we ought to profess the doctrine of passive obedi- 
ence until such time as nature rebels against principle, that is, until we are 
put to the necessity of practising it. 

" Article XII. That the papists have taken up arms to defend the 
church of England, with the utmost hazard of their lives and fortunes. 

" Article XIII. That there is an unwarrantable faction in this island, 
consisting of king, lords, and commons. 

" Article XIY. That the legislature, when there is a majority of 
Whigs in it, has not power to make laws. 

" Article XY. That an act of Parliament, to empower the king to 
secure suspected persons in times of rebellion, is the means to establish 
the sovereign on the throne, and consequent!}' a great infringement of the 
liberties of the subject." — Freeholder, No. 14, p. 81 



APPENDIX. 619 

B. 

HOW THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND ARE REPRESENTED.! 

The following Jire quotations from an Address, entitled " The House of 
Commons: Does it represent the people of England?*' delivered to the 
Birmingham Club, by Charles C. Cattell, author of " The Abolition of 
the House of Lords," etc : 

"The House of Commons is supposed to be a reflex of the opinions and interests of 
the whole people, in contradistinction to the House of Lords, which is admitted to be 
merely tlie representative of land, property, wealth, and aristocratic families. I willingly^ 
candidly, concede the point so often urged, that the House of Lords is an exclusive body- 
representing nobody but themselves, their families, and their interests. But the Com- 
mons' House is supposed to be related directly to the Democracy, to be a Republican 
institution under a hereditary President, called Queen Victoria." 

*' Of the over 30 millions of people for whom the House of Commons legislates, only a 
few thousands are rich men, or titled, or aristocratic, or capitalists, or professional men, 
these are the minority of the nation, hence on the principle of proportion, which is 
justice, only a minority of such persons should be found in the House of Representatives. 
The fact is the very reverse of this. While the thousands are well-to-do people, the 
millions are the toiling people with limited means, and many of them are truthfully 
described as ' the suffering poor.' According to all common sense and just notions of 
Representative Government, the million* should not only have power to elect members, 
but should be represented by their own class, whose thoughts and feelings, wants and 
interests, are identical with their own. According to this view about nine-tentlis of 
the Representatives should belong to the ' common people,' who are neither titled, 
bankers, capitalists, landowners, nor lawyers. Now let us see who is in the House. In 
the House of Lords there are in the Ecclesiastical Interest and connected with the land, 
238, holding patronage of 7,943 benefices. In the Fighting Interests, in the Army, Navy, 
Militia, Yeomanry, Volunteers, etc., 119; besides Ministers, ex-Ministers, Placemen, 
etc. Surely the Upper Ten Thousand ought to be satisfied with this power in the coun- 
try without monopolising ' the People's House.' We shall see. In the House of Com- 
mons the number of members is estimated as 654. Some of them appear as representa- 
tives of more than one interest, hence they unite on various occasions to protect the 
interests of each other. The Fighting Interest, the enemy of civilization, and the inter- 
est which has absorbed the earnings of the mechanic and the labourer for generations 
past, which might have given them food, comfort, health, good homes, pure air, education, 
manhood — in this interest we find 220 supporters ! Aristocratic Interest — in the People's 
House — by birth, marriage, or both, 178 supporters. Agricultural Interest — represented 
by most of the 282 County members and many of the Borough members. The Money 
Interest finds supporters in 21 Bankers and Bank Directors, in 65 Railway Chairmen 
and Directors, and 103 connected with Trade as Manufacturers, Merchants, Ship Builders 
and Owners, Ironmasters, Brewers, etc. Authors, Engineers, Professors, Doctors, 
Editors, etc., 26. Besides all these, the Legal Interest is represented — by Barristers and 
Solicitors — by 107 members. 

" Here we have the People's House without the name of a single Working 3Ian in it, 

iPage 75. 



620 APFENDIX. 

not even one who is there to represent his ' Interest.* On this evidence, I declare the 
House to be a misrepresentation of the people of England. It is a representation of 
money, powerful Corporations, titled families, and place hunters in the Army, the Navy, 
and the Church. It legislates for land, money, and family interests, instead of for the 
interests of the whole people — it votes millions of taxation, and refuses even to admit an 
enquiry into the manner in which it is spent." 

*' Not only this — it has allowed the land of the United Kingdom to be monopolised by 
a few thousand people. In 1786 the soil of England was owned by 250,000 corporations 
and proprietors, in 1822 by 32,000, and by its legislation it has driven millions from the 
country of their birth, while there are about 30 millions of acres of waste land in the 
kingdom, one-half of which might be cultivated, and render us less dependent on other 
countries for our daily food. 

" On the 21st November, 1660, the House consisted entirely of land-holders, and they, 
by act of Parliament, made themselves land-owners. At the time, some members called 
this ' a shameful fraud and robbery.' 

" With a House full of landowners and their supporters — how are we to get free trade 
in land or protection for the cultivator? They care more for sport than for the people ; 
hence the odious and abominable Game Laws, under which 10,000 persons are fined or 
imprisoned every year. The expenses of these prosecutions are taken out of the pockets 
of ratepayers. It is estimated that game prevents the cultivation of 15 million acres of 
land which might produce food for the people. Mr. Read, member for Norfolk, states 
that in his country '18,000 acres of land are untenanted on account of game.' It is 
estimated that the Game Laws diminish the supply of home-grown food to the amount of 
millions per annum — prol)ably exceeding in value the whole of our importation from 
other countries. The House is without excuse in this matter, for Mr. Bkight's com- 
mittee so far back as 1845 supplied ample evidence to justify the immediate and total 
abolition of the Game Laws. We are told that two hares eat and destroy as much as one 
sheep, that a pair of deer displaces 50 sheep, four cattle, and one family. Thus the 
people are driven from the land and starved by a sporting House of Commons ! " 

*' Mr. John Ereaeson says* this House ' from the year 1800 to 1848 passed more 
than 14,000 Acts, the great majority of which were real obstructions to progress.* He 
contends that lawcraft has become such a grievance that ' the 30,000 artificial laws must 
be abolished ' and a system be adopted in harmony with Science and the wants and rights 
of man. 

" The chief good that this House has done in this generation may be described as 
negative, for it consists in the abolition of the laws that kept the people without food, air, 
and light in their houses, without the rights of citizenship, and without education for the 
generation that is to become the men — the disgrace or the glory — of this great empire. 

" This nation has been described by visitors as containing the most riches and the 
most poverty, the finest Universities and the most ignorant people. The House of 
Commons has had the power to alter the laws which tend to make the rich richer and the 
poor poorer, and to insist on Secular Education for every child born to the nation. It 
has done none of these things." 

*' It is now evident to all thinking men that their only resource is to change the char- 
acter of the House altogether, and place men in it whose opinions and interests are in 
harmony with the millions whose welfare is immediately concerned in every vote and 
measure submitted to the House. The time has arrived for a change — one of such 
magnitude and importance as has not been submitted to the nation before, but which will 
receive its immediate and earnest attention. 



•Parliamentary Po I ics Criticised. 



APPENDIX. 621 

*' In proof of my statements I call your attention to the fact that on the question of 
paying election expenses 256 of these 'gentlemen' voted in favor of the poor man 
paying them, against 160 on the contrary, thus effectually shutting the door of the House 
in his face. On this subject Sir Chakles Dilke says :* — 

" * Now, the 160 represented 1,670,000 voters, and the 256, a few short of the same 
number ; or Government, beaten by a hundred, had yet a majority of voters on its side. 
Not only are divisions often changed as to their results, and minorities represented as 
majorities, but some apparently infinitesimally small minorities, >vhen examined from 
this point of view, become large. For instance, in 1870, 26 members only, including 
tellers, voted for payment of members ; but these 26 represented 300,000 voters, or 
12,000 voters apiece. So, again, the 46 members who voted against the match-tax rep- 
resented 660,000 voters in the constituencies; and the 110 members who voted with Mr. 
Bylands against paying the illegal over-regulation price for commissions, in the army, 
represented 1,260,000 voters. I need not multiply instances of this kind. Almost every 
day of the session supplies them in greater or less degree ; and I maintain that, when 
examined with care, the division lists give such startling results as to justify any-one in 
declaring that no kind of finality can be said to have been reached in parliamentary 
reform so long as the existing anomalies in the weight of votes continue. (Cheers.) It 
is almost impossible to realise the extent to which these anomalies go. Mrs. Fawcett 
once stated about as strong a case in a few words as can well be put, when she said that 
the ' electors of Portarlington had 132 times as much representation as the electors of 
Glasgow ; ' and the same would be true if, for Glasgow, we substituted Manchester or 
Marylebone. The metropolitan boroughs contain S}£ millions of inhabitants ; they have 
300,000 voters, and 22 members, or one member to 14,000 voters, and 145,000 inhabi- 
tants. The four towns of Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow, and Birmingham, have 
altogether half as many inhabitants, two-thirds as many voters, and one more than half 
as many members. Adding them to London, we get 34 members, representing five 
millions of people, and 500,000 voters. On the other hand, I can find you 31 small 
boroughs, with a population of 150,000' people, and with less than 16,000 voters, having 
the same number of members — (hear, hear), or I can find you 70 boroughs returning 85 
members to the House of Commons, and having altogether a population about equal to 
that of Manchester, with about the same number of voters ; they returning 85 members 
while Manchester returns three. (Shame.) And I can find you 85 members represent- 
ing the 42 large boroughs, with 8,500,000 of people, and 890,000 voters — that is to say, 
each member representing 100,000 people, and far more than 10,000 voters, to set off 
against a similar number of members representing one-twentieth of that population. 
. . , There are 60 boroughs having less than 1,000 voters each. They return 60 
members by 40,000 voters, and a population of about 300,000. Hackney, with the same 
number of voters and a larger population, returns two members instead of 60 ! Besides 
these 60 boroughs — of which only two are Scotch — there are four Scotch counties under 
1,000 voters each — namely, Haddingtonshire, Sutherlandshire (with only 358), Ross, and 
Peebles ; or altogether, four members to 3,000 voters. These four Scotch counties 
might be thrown together with others. If to the 60 boroughs we add the four Scotch 
counties, we obtain 64 members returned by 43,000 voters ; and if we compare with 
these constituencies London and the 11 next largest cities, and the greater divisions of 
the counties of Middlesex, Lancashire, and Yorkshire, we shall find that 43,000 voters 
in the small and mostly-corrupt constituencies have the same number of members, and 
therefore the same weight in legislation, as 850,000 voters in the great and pure con- 
stituencies. The comparison may be carried even farther, and into larger figures still.. 
The 52 largest constituencies have together 110 members for 1,080,000 voters. But, on 
the other hand', I can find you 110 other members of the House of Commons who repre- 
sent but 80,000^ voters, instead of 1,080,000 ! (Hear, hear.) When we see these things,, 
and remember the elaborate checks against democracy by which the Conservative Reform 
Bill at first was guarded, and how little after all there was in its provisions, we, I think, 
may be able to compare that Bill to one of those conjuror's parcels from which children; 
tear off cover after cover, and find at last that after all there was nothing but covers, and; 
that there is absolutely no inside. (Laughter and cheers.)' 

"From a summary of cities, boroughs, and districts, we obtain the following results : — 
Of 191, having a population over 3,000,000, 414,572 electors, paying £766,664. income- 
tax, have 246 members; 51, with over 9,000,000 population, 980,646 electors, paying 



* Address at Manchester, November 4, 1871. 



622 APPENDIX. 

£4,823,877., have only 116 members. And this state of things exists after the new- 
Reform Bill. Mr. D'lsRAELi is supposed to understand this question, yet his Bill leaves 
our system with these glaring anomalies. Look at Birmingham, with 42,880 electors, 
paying £114,349., has only 3 members, wliile Mr. D'Israeli's own county, with only 
7,894 electors, paying only £39,875., has the same number of members. The great 
point I wish you to observe is that the House has made these unjust arrangements, that 
it has had the power to rectify them, and has not done so ! Besides all these anomalies 
in the proportion of electors to representatives, there are 51 English towns, having a 
population in each varying between 10,000 and 70,000, the aggregate population being 
over a million of people, without any representation at all. In the counties, over 
11,000,000 of people, paying over £2,000,000., have 125 members, while 7,000,000, 
paying less than £2,000,000., have 158 members returned by 120,000 less electors than 
the 125! 

" In addition to what has been urged, the House of Commons has misappropriated the 
public money in voting or permitting to be extracted from the hard earnings of the 
people nearly £4,000,000 per annum for annuities, pensions, etc. If the House con- 
sisted of representatives of the people, who have to earn this money, such payments 
would not be voted by them. Any men elected by working-men, who gave their votes 
in favour of continuing such a scandalous misapplication of public money as this, would 
never be sent a second time to administer the affairs of the people of England. The 
total payments for annuities, allowances, pensions, etc., is £3,924,571. 7s. 2d. Among 
these payments we find many thousands a year voted to men who have been employed 
by Government, and the reason given for payments is that they have nothing to do now, 
that their office is abolished or reorganised, and, not only so, but the amount paid is, in 
many instances, the same as was paid for services rendered. Here we have £12,000. 
voted to the Duke of Cambridge, and £6,000. to the Duchess of Cambridge ; £600. to 
the Bedchamber Woman of Princess Charlotte; £1,145. lis. to J. Holdship, 1847, 
Ex-Chaff Wax; £1,076. 15s. to Hon. J. H. Knox, 1830, Ex- Weighmaster of Butter; 
£150. to R. MusHET, for ' loss of prospects ; ' £1,500., Countess Nelson, 1806; £3,500., 
Earl Nelson, 1806; £2,000., Lord Raglan, for services of late, 1855; £1,00(3., Lord 
Rodney and heirs forever, 1793; £1,000., Lady Rodney; £6,000., Princess of Schles- 
"WTG-HoLSTEiN, ctc. ; £2,160., Heirs of Duke of Schomberg ; £442., J. G. Seton, 
Deputy Chaff Wax ; £8,000., Princess of Prussia; £3,000., Princess Teck; £2,000., 
ditto, on marriage; £7,352., Rev. T. Thurlow, Patentee of Bankrupts, abolished fees, 
1852; £4,028., Ex-Hamperkeeper, abolished ofllce, 1852; £733. 6s. 8d., ditto, Ex- 
Prothonotary, loss of fees; £40,000., Prince of Wales, 1863; £10,000., Wife of Prince 
-of Wales, 1863; £15,000., Prince Alfred, 1866; £4,580., R. Mills, Court of Chan- 
cery, office abolished 1842; £1,000., R. D. Morier, Consular Establishment, office 
abolished 1832; £4,000., Heirs of William Penn forever, 1790; £1,580,000., Army 
'Pension List; £7,700., Earl Ellenborough, Law Court, 1837. These are only samples 
from the great sack. I do not urge that these are any better or worse people than others 
in the same list. I say nothing against the recipients, but protest against the People's 
House voting such sums of the people's money to such persons. 

"Besides what has been described, scores of objectionable features could be named 
wliich necessarily result from the composition of the House. Not being producers of 
wealth,. they vote millions a year, and tax the people without a murmur. Taxation 
increases whether we have peace or war, and we are compelled to pay over and over 
.again, a huge National Debt that the people never contracted. No Government should 
be allowed to exist that allows the land to pay a sixty-fourth part of the taxes which 
once paid a fourth of the whole, when its value was inconsiderable compared with its 



APPENDIX. 623 

present value. No Goremment should be allowed to exist that cannot govern this 
empire for less than £70,000,000. a year. 

"When the people begin to think, they will act, and such scandalous anomalies and 
injustice as herein described will be swept away. The people have been ' robbed and 
bamboozled for ages,' said Kichakd Cobden. 

*' Let the intelligent people assert their power — no longer sleep — no longer trust — no 
longer confide — no longer leave their destiny to others — but with knowledge and courage 
demand justice for all, and devote their intellects and their hearts to the emancipation 
of their long-suffering and injured fellow-countrymen." 



THEORY OF POLITICAL TRIMMERS. i 

The chief of political Trimmers was the Marquis of Halifax. He was a 
political adventurer. The following is an interesting account of him by 
Macaulay : 2 

" Among the statesmen of that age, Halifax was, in genius, the first. 
His intellect was fertile, subtle, and capacious. His polished, luminous, 
and animated eloquence, set off by the silver tones of his Yoice, was the 
delight of the House of Lords. His conversation overflowed with thought, 
fancy, and wit. His political tracts well deserve to be studied for their 
literar}' merit, and fully entitle him to a place among English Classics. To 
the weight derived from talents so great and various, he united all the 
influence which belongs to rank and ample possessions. Yet he was less 
successful in politics than many who enjoj^ed smaller advantages. Indeed, 
those intellectual peculiarities which make his writings valuable, frequently 
impeded him in the contests of active life ; for he always saw passing events, 
not in the point of view in which they commonly appear to one who bears a 
part in them, but in tbe point of view in which, after the lapse of many 
3'ears, they appear to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind, 
he could not long continue to act cordiall}- with any body of men. All the 
prejudices, all the exaggerations of both the great parties in the state, 
moved his scorn. He despised the mean arts and unreasonable clamors of 
demagogues. He despised still more the Tory doctrines of divine right and 
passive obedience. He sneered impartiall}' at the bigotry of the Churchmen 
and at the bigotry of the Puritan. He was equally unable to comprehend 
how any man should object to saints' days and surplices, and how any man 
should persecute any other man for objecting to them. In temper he was 
what, in our time, is called a conservative. In theory he was a Republican. 

1 Page 369. 2 Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 227. 



6M APPENDIX. 

Even when his dread of anarchy and his disdain for vulgar delusions led 
him to decide for a time with the defenders of abitrary power, his intellect 
was always with Locke and Milton. Indeed, his jests upon hereditary 
monarchy were sometimes such as would have better become a member of 
the Calf s Head Club than a privy counsellor of the Stuarts. In religion 
he was so far from being a zealot that he was called by the uncharitable an 
atheist ; but this imputation he vehemently repelled ; and in truth, though 
he sometimes gave scandal by the way in which he exerted his rare powers 
both of argumentation and of ridicule on serious subjects, he seems to have 
been by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions. 

" He was the chief of those politicians whom the two great parties con- 
temptuously called Trimmers. Instead of quarrelling with this nickname, 
he assumed it as a title of honor, and vindicated, with great vivacity, the 
dignity of the appellation. Every thing good, he said, trims between 
extremes. The Temperate Zone trims between the climate in which men 
are roasted and the climate in which they are frozen. The English Church 
trims between the Anabaptist madness and the papist lethargy. The 
English Consitution trims between Turkish despotism and Polish anarchy. 
Virtue is nothing but a just temper between propensities, any one of which, 
if indulged to excess, becomes a vice ; nay, the perfection of the Supremo 
Being Himself consists in the exact equilibrium of attributes, none of which 
could preponderate without disturbing the whole moral and physical order 
of the world. Thus Halifax was a trimmer on principle. He was also a 
trimmer by the constitution both of his head and of his heart. His under- 
standing was keen, skeptical, inexhaustibly fertile in distinctions and 
objections ; his taste refined ; his sense of the ludicrous exquisite ; his tem- 
per placid and forgiving, but fastidious, and by no means prone either to 
malevolence or to enthusiastic admiration. Such a man could not long be 
constant to any band of political allies. He must not, however, be con- 
founded with the vulgar crowd of renegades ; for though, like them, he 
passed from side to side, his transition was always in the direction opposite 
to theirs. He had nothing in common with those who fly from extreme 
to extreme, and who regard the party which they have deserted with an 
animosity far exceeding that of consistent enemies. His place was 
between the hostile divisions of the community, and he never wandered far 
beyond the frontier of either The party to which he at any moment 
belonged was the party which, at that moment, he liked best, because it 
was the party of which, at that moment, he had the nearest view. He was, 
therefore, always severe upon his violent associates, and was always in 
friendly relations with his moderate opponents. Every faction, in the day 
of its insolent and vindictive triumph, incurred his censure, and every 
faction, when vanquished and persecuted, found in him a protector. To 
his lasting honor it must be mentioned that he attempted to save those 



APPENDIX. 625 

victims whose fate has left the deei^est stain both on the Whig and on the 
Tory name." * * * 

'' He "vvas seriouslj' alarmed b}' the violence of the public discontent. 
He thought that libert}- was for the present safe, and that order and legiti- 
mate authority were in danger. He, therefore, as was his fashion, joined 
himself to the weaker side." * * * 

" He pretended, indeed, that he considered titles and great offices as 
baits which could allure none but fools, that he hated business, pomp and 
pageantry, and that his dearest wish was to escape from the bustle and 
glitter of Whitehall to the quiet woods which surrounded his ancient hall at 
Rufford ; but his conduct was not a little at variance with his professions. 
In truth, he wished to command the respect at once of courtiers and of 
philosophers, to be admired for attaining high dignities, and to be at the 
same time admired for despising them." ^ 



p. 

ENUNCIATIOX OF TGEYISM.a 

" This enunciation of Torj'ism," as Cooke truly says, " well deserves 
insertion at length, in a history of our national parties. It is called, 

*' ' The Judgment and Decree of the University of Oxford, passed in their 
Convocation, Jxdy 21, 1683, against certain pernicious books and damnable 
doctrines destructive to the sacred persons of princes, their state and govern- 
ment, and of cdl human society, 

" ' Although the barbarous assassination, lately enterprised against the 
person of his sacred majesty, and his royal brother, engage all our thoughts 
to reflect with the utmost detestation and abhorrence on that execrable 
villainy, hateful to God and man ; and pay our due acknowledgments to 
the Divine Providence, which, by extraordinary methods, brought it to pass 
that the breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, is not taken in 
the pit which was prepared for him, and that under his shadow we continue 
to live, and enjoj^ the blessings of his government ; yet, notwithstanding, 
we find it to be a necessarj^ duty at this time to search into, and la}' open, 
those impious doctrines, which, having of late been studiously disseminated, 
gave rise and growth to these nefarious attempts ; and pass upon them our. 
solemn, public censure and decree of condemnation. 



1 Hist, of England, Vol. i, p. 227. 2 Page 395. 

40 



€2'6 APrENDIX. 

" ' Therefore, to the honor of the holy and iinclivicled Trinity-, the preser- 
vation of Catholic truth in the Church, and that the King's majesty may 
be secured both from the attempts of open blood}' enemies and machinations 
of treacherous heretics and schismatics, we, the vice-chancellor, doctors, 
proctors, and masters, regent and non-regent, met in convocation, in the 
accustomed manner, time, and place, on Saturday, Jul}' 21, 1683, concern- 
ing certain propositions contained in divers books and writings, published 
in the English and also in the Latin tongue, repugnant to the Holy 
Scriptures, decrees in councils, writings of the fathers, the faith and 
profession of the primitive church ; and also destructive of the kingly 
government, the safety of his majesty's person, the public peace, the laws 
of nature and bonds of human society, by our unanimous assent and 
consent have decreed and determined in manner and form following : 

" ' The First Proposition. All civil authority is derived originally from 
the people. 

" ' The Second. There is a mutual contract, tacit or express, between a 
prince and his subjects ; and that if he perform not his duty they are 
discharged from theirs. 

" ' The Third. That if lawful governors become tyrants, or govern 
otherwise than by the laws of God and man they ought to do, they forfeit 
the right they had unto their government. (Lex Rex. Buchanan^-de Ture 
Jiegni. Vindicim contra Tyrannos. Bellarm. de ConciUis, de Pontijice. 
Milton. Goodwin. Baxt. H. C.^ 

" ' The Fourth. The sovereignty of England is in the three estates, viz., 
king, lords and commons. The king has but a co-ordinate power, and may 
be overruled by the other two. (Lex Rex. Hunton, of a limited and mixed 
monarchy. Baxter's H. C. Polit. Catechis.) 

" ' The Fifth. Birthright and proximity of blood, give no title to rule or 
government ; and it is lawful to preclude the next heir from his right and 
succession to the crown. (^Lex Rex. Hunt's Postscript. Dolman's History 
.of Succession. Julian the Apostate.^ Mene Tekel.) 

'' ' The Sixth. It is lawful for subjects, without the consent and against 
.the command of the supreme magistrate, to enter into leagues, covenants, 
and associations, for defence of themselves and their religion. (Solemn 
Xeague and Covenant. Late Association.) 



■1 Richard Baxter's True History of Coun- than resist by force not only the king, but 

rcils. all who are put in authority under him. 

2 Julian the j\postate was a tract, written This work probably contains the sentiments 

by Mr. Samuel Johnson, chaplain to Lord of Lord William Russell upon that import- 

.Russel, defending resistance in extreme ant subject. See an account of it in the 

ca=es, against the proposihons advanced by Appendix to Lord John Russell's Life of 

(Pr. Hicks in some sermons, that the pro- Lord William Russell. 
lessors of Christianity ought to die rather 



APPENDIX. G2T 

" ' The Seventh. Self-preservation is the fundamental law of nature, 
and supersedes the obligation of all others, whensoever thej^ stand in 
competition with it. {Ilobbs, tie Civ. Leviathan.) 

*' * The Eighth. The doctrine of the gospel, concerning patient suffering 
of injuries, is not inconsistent with violent resisting of the higher powers 
in case of persecution for religion. {Lex Rex. Julian the Apostate. 
Apolog. Llelat.) 

*' ' The Ninth. There lies no obligation upon Christians to passive 
obedience, when the prince commands anything against the laws of our 
countr}' ; and the primitive Christians chose rather to die than resist, 
because Christianity was not settled b}^ the laws of the empire. {Julian 
the Apostate.) 

" ' The Tenth. Possession and strength give a right to govern, and 
success in a cause or enterprise proclaims it to be lawful and just : to 
pursue it is to compl}- with the will of God, because it is to follow the 
conduct of His providence. (Hohbs. Owen's Sermon before the Regicides, 
Jan. 31, 1648. Baxter. Jenkins' Petition, October, 1651.) 

" ' The Eleventh. In the state of nature there is no difference between 
good and evil, right and wrong ; the state of nature is a state of war, in 
which every man hath a right to all things. 

*' * The Twelfth. The foundation of civil authority is this natural right ; 
which is not given, but left to the supreme magistrate, upon men's entering 
into societies, and not onlj' a foreign invader, but a domestic rebel, puts 
himself again into a state of nature, to be proceeded against not as a 
subject but an enemy ; and consequentl}- acquires b}' his rebellion the same 
right over the life of his prince, as the prince for the most heinous crimes 
has over the life of his own subjects. 

" ' The Thirteenth. Ever}^ man after his entering into a society retains 
a right of defending himself against force ; and cannot transfer that right to 
the commonwealth, when he consents to that union wherebj' a commonwealth 
is made. And in case a great many men together have already resisted the 
commonwealth, for which every one of them expected death, they have 
libert}^ then to join together to assist and defend one another : their bearing 
of arms, subsequent to the first breach of their duty, though it be to main- 
tain what they have done, is no new unjust act ; and if it be only to defend 
their persons it is not unjust at all. 

" ' The Fourteenth. An oath superadds no obligation to part, and a part 
obliges no further than it is credited : and consequentlj^ if a prince gives 
any indication that he does not believe the promises of fealty and allegi- 
ance made b}^ any of his subjects, the}^ are thereby freed from their 
subjection, and notwithstanding their parts and oaths, may lawfully rebel 
against and destro}^ their sovereign. (LTobbs, de Civ. Jjeviathan.) 

*' ' The Fifteenth. If a people that by oath and dut}- are obliged to a 



628 APPENDIX. 

sovereign, shall sinfully dispossess him, and, contraiy to the covenants, 
choose and covenant with another, they may be obliged by their latter 
covenants, notwithstanding their former. {Baxter's II. C.) 

" ' The Sixteenth. All oaths are unlawful, and contrary to the word of 
God. {Quakers.) 

" ' The Seventeenth. An oath obligeth not in the sense of the imposers, 
but the takers. {Sheriff's Case.) 

'^ ' The Eiojhteenth. Dominion is founded in sfrace. 

*' * The Nineteenth. The powers of this world are usurpations upon the 
prerogative of Jesus Christ ; and it is the duty of God's people to destroy 
them, in order to the setting Christ upon his throne. {Fifth Monarchy- 
men.) 

" ' The Twentieth. The Presbyterian government is the sceptre of 
Christ's kingdom, to vfhich kings as well as others are bound to submit ; 
and the king's supremacy in ecclesiastical affairs, asserted by the Church 
of England, is injurious to Christ, the sole king and head of his church. 
(Altare Damascenum Apolog. Belat. Hist. Indulg. Cartivright Travers.) 

'' ' The Twent3'-first. It is not lawful for superiors to impose an^'thing 
in the worship of God that is not antecedently necessarv. 

" ' The Twenty-second. The dut}^ of not offending a weak brother, is 
inconsistent with all humane authority of making law^s concerning indiffer- 
ent things. {Protestant Reconciler.) 

" ' The Twent3^-third. Wicked kings and tj-rants ought to be put to death ; 
and if the judges and inferior magistrates will not do their office, the powder 
of the sword devolves to the people. If the major part of the people 
refuse to exercise this power, then the ministers may excommunicate such 
a king ; after which, it is lawful for any of the subjects to kill him, as the 
people did Athaliah, and Jehu Jezabel. {Buchanan^ Knox, Goodman, 
Gilhy ; Jesuits.) 

" ' The Twent3'-fourth. After the sealing of the scripture canon, the 
people of God, in all ages, are to expect new revelations for a rule of their 
actions ; and it is lawful for a private man, having an inward motion from 
God, to killa tyrant. {Quakers, and other Enthusiasts. Goodman.) 

" 'The' Twenty-fifth. The example of Phineas is to us instead of a com- 
mand ; for what God hath commanded or approved in one age, must needs 
oblige in all. {Goodman, Knoiv, Napthali,) 

" ^ The Twenty-sixth. King Charles I. was lawfully put to death, and 
his murderers were the blessed instruments of God's glory in their genera- 
tion. {Milton, Goodwin, Owen.) 

''-'The Twent3'-seventh. King Charles I. made war upon his parliament, 
and in such a case the king may not only be resisted, but he ceaseth to be 
king. {Baxter.) 

" ' We decree, judge, and declare, all and every of these propositions to 



APPENDIX. 629 

be false, seditious, and impious, and most of them to be also heretical and 
blasphemous, infamous to Christian religion, and destructive of all govern- 
ment in church and state. 

" ' We further decree, that the books which contain the aforesaid 
propositions and impious doctrines, are fitted to deprave good manners, 
corrupt the minds of uneasy men, stir up seditions and tumults, overthrow 
states and kingdoms, and lead to rebellion, murder of princes, and atheism 
itself; and therefore we interdict all members of the university from the 
reading of the said books, under the penalties in the statutes expressed. 
We also order the before-recited books to be publicly burnt by the hand 
of our marshal, in the court of our schools. 

" ' Likewise we order, that in perpetual memory hereof, these our decrees 
shall be entered into the registry of our convocation, and that copies of 
them, being communicated to the several colleges and halls within this 
universit}', thej' be there publicly affixed in the libraries, refectories, or 
other fit places, where the}- ma}' be seen and read of all. 

" ' Lastl}', we command and strictly enjoin all and singular, the readers, 
tutors, catechists, and others to whom the care and trust of initiating of 
3'outh is committed, that they diligently instruct and ground their scholars 
in that most necessar}- doctrine, which, in a manner, is the badge and 
character of the Church of England, of submitting to every ordinance of 
man for the Lord's sake, whether it be to tlie king as supreme, or unto 
governors, as unto them that are sent by him, for the punishment of evil- 
doers, and for the praise of them that do well ; teaching that this submis- 
sion and obedience is to be clear, absolute, and without any exception of 
any state or order of men. Also, that they, according to the apostle's 
precept, exhort that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and 
giving of thanks, be made for all men, for the king and all that are in 
authorit}', that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life, in all godliness and 
honesty, for this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour ; 
and in especial manner, that they press and oblige them humbly to offer 
their most ardent and daily prayers at the throne of grace, for the preser- 
vation of our sovereign lord. King Charles, from the attempts of open 
violence, and secret machinations of perfidious traitors, that the defender 
of the faith, being safe under the defence of the Most High, may continue 
his reign on earth, till he exchange it for that of a late and happy immor- 
tality.' i 

" This manifesto was printed," says Cooke, " presented to the king, and 
conspicuously posted upon the gates of all the colleges and halls of the 
university. It will be noticed, that in it the Tories artfully mingled the 
essential articles of British freedom, with extravagances found on!}* in the 

1 History of Tarty, Vol. i, p. 345. 



C30 APPENDIX. 

ravings of fiftli monarcli3--men, and the declamations of desperate republi- 
cans. Ill their eyes the whole appear to have been equally atheistical, and 
equally objects of wrath. 

*' The Whig principle being one of continual progression, they have 
never been compelled to renounce it, that of the Tories being stationary, 
was therefore more inconvenient ; but although the current of events soon 
tore away their grasp, and bore them far from their original support, they 
struggled long against its influence, yielded every foot with reluctance, and 
ever took advantage of any favorable conjuncture to win back a portion of 
the space between them and their original starting-point. 

^' Dui'ing the last four 3'ears of this reign the Tories had been supported 
with the whole power of the crown : the prerogative they vindicated had 
been uniformly exerted in their own service, and the King himself had 
been but the head of their party." ^ 



E. 

CORIOLANUS, HIS WIFE AND MOTHER.2 

Coriolanus boldly demanded, — " What they accused him of, and upon 
"what charge he was to be tried before the people?" ^ Being told,—' That 
he would be tried for treason against the commonwealth, in designing to 
set himself up as a tyrant," — " Let me go, then," said he, " to the people, 
and make my defence ; I refuse no form of trial, nor any kind of punish- 
ment if I be found guilt}'. Only allege no other crime against me, and do 
not impose upon the Senate." The tribunes deliberately agreed to these 
conditions, only to break them, making new issues which could neither be 
proved nor disproved — as they were predetermined to secure his conviction. 
After the people were assembled, they were compelled to give their voices 
by tribes, and not by centuries : " thus contriving," says Plutarch, " that 
the meanest and most seditious part of the populace, and those who had no 
regard to justice or honor, might out-vote such as had borne arms, or were 
of some fortune or character." He was accordingly tried, and condemned 
by a majority of three tribes, and sentenced to perpetual banishment. 

Disgusted b}- perfid}- , and stung to madness by an ungrateful people, he 
forgot his own high standard of self-sacrifice, and studied only how he 
could be revenged. Revenge abhors moderation, it leaps to extremes. He 

1 Burnet's Memorial. History of Party, ^ This is abridged from Plutarch's Lives, 
Vol. I, p. 355. Vol. i, pp. 359, 374. 

2 Page 484. 



APPENDIX. ' 631 

siuTOiKlered himself to the enemies of his country, to the Volscians, offer- 
ing faithfully to serve them, tind to advance their weal. As they l<.ne\v 
him, feared him, and honored him — they accepted him with joyous 
demonstrations. The}' invested him as their chief in command of ail their 
forces. After repeated successes, he marched towards Rome, and 
encamped only live miles from it. The sight of him there, caused great 
terror and confusion. All was anarcli}' and alarm, and after much discus- 
sion, it was agreed to send ambassadors to Coriolanus to offer him libert}- to 
return, and to entreat him to put an end to the war. Those that went on the 
part of the senate were all either his relations or friends. lie received them 
with great pomp and severity, and bade them declare their business, which 
the}' did in a very modest and humble manner. He answered with much 
bitterness and high resentment. As general of the Volscians, he sternly 
proposed, — '' That the Romans should restore all the cities and lands which 
they had taken in the former wars ; and that they should grant by decree 
the freedom of the city to the Volscians, as they had done to the Latins ; 
for tliat no lasting peace could be made between the two nations, but upon 
these just and equal conditions, and he gave them thirt}- days to consider 
them." Having dismissed the ambassadors, he immediately retired from 
the Roman territories. The Romans were spiritless, and made no good use 
of their time. When the term expired, Coriolanus returned with all his 
forces. A second embassy was sent '■' to entreat him to lay aside his 
resentment, to draw off the Volscians from their territories, etc.," adding 
" that the Romans would not give up anything through fear." He not 
only refused to give any other answer, but exhorted them to return within 
three days with a ratification of his first conditions, w^arning them that " it 
would not be safe for them to come any more into his camp with empt}' 
words." The Senate having heard the report, considered the common- 
wealth as ready to sink in the waves of a dreadful tempest, and therefore 
cast the last, the sacred anchor, as it is called. They ordered all the priests 
of the gods, the ministers and guardians of the mysteries, and all that, b}' 
the ancient usage of their countr}", practised divination by the flight of 
birds, to go to Coriolanus in their robes, with the ensigns which they bear 
in the duties of their office, and to exert their utmost endeavors to end the 
war and to make peace. They were respectfully received, but he bade 
them " either to accept the former proposals, or prepare for war." 

Amazed at their own w eakness, and distracted by their troubles, the 
Romans resolved to defend themselves within their walls, — placing their 
chief hopes on the accidents of time and fortune. They had exhausted 
their influence, and 3ielded to despair. As yet, woman had not acted. It 
was now lier turn. Not as a citizen, but as woman. The Roman women 
had faith in divinity, they did not go to the senate, they did not go to the 
people. Most of the illustrious of the matrons made their supplications at 



632 APPENDIX. 

the altar of Jupiter Capitol inns. Among these was Valeria, the sister of 
the great Publicola. This woman was of high birth, and was greatly 
esteemed. Moved by divine influence, as she believed, she called upon 
other matrons to accompany her to the house of Volumnia, the mother of 
Coriolanns. When they entered they found her sitting with her daughter- 
in-law, Vergilia, with the children of Coriolanns. Valeria thus addressed 
them : " We address ourselves to you, Volumnia and Vergilia, as women 
to women, without any decree of the senate, or order of the consuls. But 
our God, v»^e believe, lending a merciful ear to our praj^ers, put it into our 
minds to appeal to you to go with us to Coriolanns." In eloquent language 
she stated the emergenc}- of their country, and she was nobly answered by 
Volumnia. After deploring the general calamit}' threatening the countr}^, 
she thus concludes : " But it is still a greater misfortune to us, if our 
country is become so weak, as to have need to repose her hopes upon us ; 
for I know not whether he will have any regard for us, since he has had 
none for his country, which he used to prefer to his mother, to his wife, and 
children. Take us, hoAvever, and make what use of us j'ou please. Lead 
us to him. If we can do nothing else, we can exi)ire at his feet in suppli- 
cating for Rome." She then took the children and Vergilia with her, and 
with other matrons went to the Volscian camp. They were conve^-ed in 
chariots ordered b}' the consuls and approved b}' the senate. The sight 
of them produced, even in the enemy, compassion and a reverential 
silence. Coriolanns, who then happened to be seated upon the tribunal 
with his principal officers, seeing the women approach, was greatl}' agitated 
and surprised. Nevertheless, he endeavored to retain his wonted stern- 
ness and inexorable temper, though he perceived that his wife was at the 
head of them ; but, unable to resist the emotions of affection, he could not 
suffer them to address him as he sat. He descended from the tribunal, and 
ran to meet them. First, he embraced his mother for a considerable time, 
and afterwards his wife and children, neither refraining from tears, nor 
other manifestations of affection. Perceiving that his mother wanted to 
speak, he called around him the Volscian counsellors, and she addressed 
him in language of great power and propriet3\ Coriolanns listened with 
subdued emotions, but in silence. She continued, but he still stood silent. 
Feeling exhausted, and that nothing more could be said, she thus closed 
the scene : " If words cannot prevail," she exclaimed, "this onl}' resource 
is left." She threw herself at his feet, together with his wife and children ; 
upon which Coriolanus, crying out, — " O ! mother, what is it you have 
done?" raised her from the ground, and, tenderly pressing her hand, 
continued, — " You have gained a victor}^ fortunate for your countr}', but 
ruinous to me. I go, vanquished by you alone." To commemorate this 
remarkable event, the senate decreed the erection of a temple and shrine 
to the FoKTUNK OF Women. Valeria wns the first priestess of this temple, , 
which was much frequented b}^ the Roman women. 



APPENDIX. 633 

This is a lesson full of instruction, showing in a beautiful manner, what 
*' women as women " can do. 



THE EMPIRE STATE. 

The attention of the author has recently been directed to a very able 
lecture by the Hon. Horatio Sej'mour, of New York.^ 

His comprehensive surve}^ of the early settlements of the American 
continent, of the sources of political strength and wisdom ; his interesting 
description of the physical features of the Empire State, and of its perma- 
nent geographical advantages ; his apt and significant allusions to the 
growing responsibilities of Town, County, and State organizations, and 
their united power in directing wise solutions of the difficult problems of 
government, — indicate so clear a philosophy, and are so suggestive of a 
practical outline of historical stud}', that portions of his eloquent address 
are inserted as eminently entitled to especial consideration. Its entire 
perusal is recommended to all readers. 

EXTRACTS FROM GOV. SEYMOUR'S LECTURE. 

**I am glad that History and Political Science are made leading studies in this Uni- 
versity, for they best teach how to meet great questions in a great way. Tliey deal with 
present and remote, with varied and with world-wide topics. They show how men at 
different periods and at distant points dealt with private and public affairs, how opinions 
lay in their minds, and how many ways there are of getting at the great ends of good 
government. They not only give us views of the forms of government, and of the rules 
laid down by written law, but they also give us an understanding of the unwritten laws 
of public opinion and of moral feelings which make the character of a people. They 
teach us modesty as to our own views, and a just respect for the opinions of others. They 
help us to rise above that provincialism which is constantly creeping over us, and makes 
us laud and magnify ourselves, our State, and our nation. Wisdom grows less from the 
knowledge we store up than from the frames of mind we form. We cannot from the top 
of all the knowledge we pile up get foresight. It is not given to learning more than to 
ignorance to see what lies in the pathways of life. The future is dark to all alike. The 
great difference in the wisdom of men grows out of the fact that he who is studious, 
earnest, and honest, has a mind like the well-tilled field ; when facts come, they are 
accepted, take root, and bear abundantly. The bigoted and conceitedly ignorant (which 



^ It is entitled, — " History and Topogra- Seymour, at Cornell University, June 30th, 
phy of New York : A Lecture by Horatio 1870. See p. 200. 



634 APPENDIX. 

is the most malignant form of ignorance) let facts and trutlis perish on the hard surface 
of their minds. Mr. Goldwin Smith gave us a happy illustration of this truth, in the 
address wliich we listened to with so much pleasure, this afternoon. Mr. Gladstone had 
as mucii learning -when he upheld the union of State and Church as when he came out 
the bold advocate of the Irish Church Bill. His learning did not teach him the need of 
this reform, but it gave him that largeness of mind that enabled him to see truth when 
presented to his views ; and, as the distinguished lecturer well said, he showed his great- 
ness most in what the world calls liis inconsistencies. A little and an uncultivated man 
shrinks from putting away his errors under the fire of partisan organizations. 

" One of the great ends of education is to give us the right frame of mind. The 
histories of men and nations, and the studies of the social systems and public policy of 
the peoples of the world, are needful parts of education everywhere ; but in this country 
they have a special value. Beyond others, we are called upon to deal with social and 
political problems on a large scale. Never before in the history of the world did any 
country gain in a peaceful way such rapid addition to its numbers. Never before was 
there a country where men, with the aid of machinery, acted so powerfully upon the 
state of affairs around them. Our numbers now increase nearly one million and a half 
in each year ; about four thousand each day, more than one hundred and fifty in each 
rolling hour. Of these about one-quarter come from foreign lands. If we measure our 
victories in this peaceful contest with other nations by the terms of war, we find that we 
shall take this year more than three hundred thousand prisoners ; not nmtilated men, 
dragged unwillingly here, but coming in the vigor of life, bearing the riches of health 
and industry, who join our side, and thus double the victory. 

"When we think of the growing, multitudes of our people, the grand armies on the 
way to join us, the extent of our country, the variety of its productions, the diversities 
of the language and lineage of our citizens, we must feel that the study of political 
science is needed for the liealth and safety of the national life. The careful study of the 
history of other people is a great duty. The thoughtful consideration of the policies of 
government cannot be neglected without a crime akin to treason. 

" But this duty has been sadly neglected. Our people are familiar with the story of 
the Eevolution ; but there is not a general understanding of the events which went before 
it. The Revolution was not in all senses the most important and far reaching fact in the 
progress of our country. Had the first effort for independence failed, independence 
would still liave been gained in the end. It was merely a question of time. We cannot 
hold in too high regard tlie actors in that event. Their virtues and heroism worked out 
the victory at one struggle, and saved repeated and prolonged warfare. But back of 
that, a graver problem Jiad been solved. What was to be the character of the civiliza- 
tion of tliis continent? When the youth reaches man's estate, it is a great' event in his 
life. But it is of less moment than the character he has formed before entering upon 
the duties of citizenship. 

" When we search among the roots of our nation's growth', we find them intermingled 
with those of European nationalities. The wars of tlie Spanish succession had much to 
do with the destinies of this continent. Our future Imng upon tlie turn of the question 
whether Erench or English civilization should govern here. Should our continent be 
Gallic or British, in its aspect, religion, laws, and customs. That question was fought 
out in Europe as well as here. When Marlborough won victories at Blenheim, Ramilies, 
and Malplaquet, or when Prince Eugene swept the French from Italy and crippled the 
power of Louis the Great, they did more than settle the balance of the nations of Europe. 
They fixed the fate of this continent. Had these battles gone for France, it would have 
held all of this continent save a narrow strip along the Atlantic coast. The end was for 



APPENDIX. 635 

V 

a long time in doubt, as the scales vibrated through the course of nearly a century of 
wars. 

" Our people have not been well trained in the history of colonial events, nor of the 
political principles which grew out of them. We content ourselves with vague and mis- 
taken ideas, giving undue prominence to some events, and overlooking others of the 
greatest importance. The characters of the first colonists were full of interest. That 
historian who will draw and group them well, and will show in what ways each settlement 
told upon the character of our people, will do a great service to our country. It 
will be found that to this day we can trace certain influences back to the founders of the 
Atlantic States. They should be brought out in a way to show how they shaped the 
events of this day, or how they moulded our Constitution and laws. We want clear 
views of the leading traits of the first colonists. Sometimes we hear painfully absurd 
speeches from the pulpit and the rostrum upon these subjects. 

" The Puritans suffer most in this way. There was something heroic in their self- 
poised characters. They had what will always command respect — earnestness. It was 
carried to excess, and made them harsh. But an earnest man is always in some way a 
useful man. The self-confidence of the Puritans was something more than faith. They 
acted not on the theory that they believed, but that they knew that they were right. 
With stern logic they held that, knowing they were right, they could not tolerate a 
wrong. In the strong words of their first law-giver, they denounced religious toleration 
as ' a covenant with hell.' They did not believe in political equality, for they established 
a theocracy, giving the right to vote only to church members. They held that no man 
had any rights that they were bound to respect unless he was a Christian, and the ' right 
kind of a Christian.' This would seem to be a hard soil in which to cultivate public 
or private virtues ; but such are the merits of earnestness and zeal, that we get from 
them, in a large degree, the force of character, the energy and the will, which mark our 
progress as a people. Their claims to absolute certainty in the correctness of their 
opinions led them to place a high value upon knowledge, and from the outset they 
bestowed great care upon education. In the cause of learning and in the conduct of 
business their descendants are foremost in the land. While the character of the first 
settlers of New England has been thus distorted, the early history of other of the first 
colonists has been neglected. 

" The influence which Virginia exerted in this country at an early day, was due in a 
great measure to the fact that the wealth of the planters in the colonial period enabled 
many of them to get education at European colleges, when we had only feeble schools in 
this country. This gave the State great power over the public mind, and made her the 
* Mother of Statesmen.' I might take up the several colonies and show how each had 
peculiar aspects, but the occasion will not permit me to do so." * * * 

After giving a sketch of the physical outlines of the State, he continues : 

** Thus our State enjoys the apparently inconsistent advantages of having the deepest 
channels for commerce with the West, and at the same time of being at the head of the 
great valleys of the United States. This is not a fact of mere geographical interest. It 
gives us substantial advantages. It enables us to penetrate with our canals and railroads 
into all parts of the country, by following the easy and natural routes of rivers. We 
can go into twenty States and two-thirds of the territories of the Union, without leaving 
the courses of valleys. No other Atlantic State can make a communication between its 
eastern and western borders without overcoming one or more mountain ridges. Thus, 
then, are we situated. One angle of New York rests upon the Atlantic, another reaches 
north to the St. Lawrence, whde the third stretches west to the great kkes and the 
valleys and streams connected with the Mississippi. We are placed at the heads of the 



636 APPENDIX. 

great valleys, while the Mohawk and the Hudson unite them all and give us command of 
the commerce of our country. 

*' When our continent was discovered, the plains of the Mohawk and Western New 
York were held by a confederacy of Indians, who had subdued the countiy from north of 
the great lakes to Georgia, and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. While their con- 
quests were due in some degree to their bravery in war, yet they owed much to the 
geographical peculiarities I have described, which gave them easy communications 
between themselves, and avenues which led into the countries of their enemies. Moun- 
tain ranges divided their foes into different communities, while they were able to pour 
their united forces througli the valleys I have mentioned. They held in subjection 
numbers far greater than their own, because they could attack and subdue isolated tribes. 
• "The conquests made by the Six Nations had great mfluence in shaping the civilization 
of this continent. The French discovered the mouth and the course of the Mississippi 
River and of many of its confluents. They first planted colonists along their banks. 
By the usages of that age, they had a right to all the territories lying along these streams. 
This gave them a claim to the Ohio, and the country west of the Alleghanies. If this 
claim had been upheld, the British Colonies would have been confined to a narrow strip 
along the Atlantic. As an oflset to any rights gained by France, as first discoverers, the 
British Government contended that the country as far west as the Mississippi River, was 
held by conquest by the Indians of New York. That when these became subject to the 
British Crown, they brought with them their territorial riglits. Upon all the Colonial 
maps, these were carefully and conspicuously marked out. To add force and give dignity 
to this fact, the Chiefs of the Iroquois were frequently called Kings ; and when the 
Mohawk warriors were carried to London by Col. Peter Schuyler, they were received 
with great ceremony by Queen Anne, although the Court was then in mourning for the 
Prince of Denmark. At this time it was felt that the Indians of New York held the 
balance of power on this continent, and the French and English left no artifices nor 
influences untried to gain their alliance. On the one hand, the British had the aid of tlie 
Hollanders, who had won the good will and confidence of these formidable savages. This 
was fortunate for their cause, for the Colonial Governors were, in many instances, weak 
and unworthy men. To Col. Peter Schuyler more than to any other man of that period, 
we are indebted for the success of our Indian diplomacy, anJ it may be fairly said of him 
that he did most of all to shape the history of our country. On the other hand, while 
the French had inferior numbers on this continent, their leaders were men of great 
ability and enterprise. They had powerful allies in the French Catholic Missionaries. 
These men, full of enthusiasm, highly educated, and in many instances of aobie birth, 
showed a heroism and devotion hardly equalled in the annals of any country- They 
sought martyrdom in the cause of their Church and religion, and the story of their 
wanderings and sufferings on this continent is among the most fascinating pages of 
history. They carried the Cross into all the valleys and plains of New York, and for a 
long time tliey held an influence over the western tribes of the Iroquois, which endangered 
the English power on this continent." * * * 

"The physical peculiarities of our State have had much to do with the first settlement 
of New York ; with the character of its people ; with the foundations of its society ; with 
the development of statutory and constitutional law, and its influence over the policy of 
our whole country. Our commercial advantages brought us a cosmopolitan population 
from the outset. Commerce, the great agent of civilization, gave us, from the first, the 
best principles of government and of social and religious liberty then known to the world. 
The principles of the Dutch made Holland the asylum of those who fled from religious 
or political persecution. Their liberal views were imparted to the colonies they founded. 



APIENDIX. 637 

By drawing to their settlements here all nationalities and creeds, they made that toleration 
a law of necessity which at first was a measure of wise and humane policy. 

** The world has never witnessed a scene of greater moral beauty than the Bay of New 
York presented under the Dutch government, and at a later day, while its just views of 
liberty continued to influence the community it had founded. At a period when rights of 
conscience were not recognized in Europe, save in the limited territories of Holland, 
there were clustering around the beautiful harbor of New Amsterdam communities rep- 
resenting different nationalities and creeds, living in peaceful intercourse. The 
Hollanders and Swedes at Manhattan, the Waldenses upon Staten Island, the Walloons 
and English upon Long Island, and the Huguenots upon the banks of the Hudson, found 
here a refuge from religious persecution. What civilized Europe denied them, they 
sought on this spot, still shaded by primeval forests, and still made picturesque by the 
gliding canoe of the savage. The exiles from Piedmont, from France, from the banks of 
the Rhine, and from Britain, lived here in peaceful concord, as strongly in contrast with 
the bigotry and intolerance which prevailed elsewhere, as was their civilization and 
refinement to the wild scenes and savage tribes who surrounded them. At a later day 
the persecuted Germans from the Palatinate were settled on the Mohawk. A colony of 
Scotch Highlanders, banished for their attachment to the Catholic religion, and to the 
romantic fortunes of Charles Edward, found a home, not unlike their native hills and 
lakes, in the northern part of Montgomery County. The Protestant Irish established 
themselves in Otsego County, and there were settlements of French in Northern and 
Western New York. A small colony of Spaniards once existed near Onondaga Lake, 
but were destroyed by the Indians. The Welsh came to this country soon after the 
Revolution. Almost every European tongue has ever been spoken at the firesides of our 
State, and used on each returning Sabbath in offerings of prayer and praise to the God 
of all languages and all climes. Nine names, prominent in the early history of New 
York and of the Union, represent the same number of nationalities. Schuyler was ot 
Holland; Herkimer, of German; Jay, of French; Livingston, of Scotch; Clinton, ot 
Irish ; Morris, of Welsh ; and Hoflinan, of Swedish descent. Hamilton was born in 
one of the English West India Islands, and Baron Steuben, who became a citizen of 
New York after the close of the Revolutionary war, and who was buried in Oneida 
County, was a Prussian. 

" As this was originally a Dutch colony, the character of that people, and their influ- 
ence upon our institutions, demand particular notice. These colonists came here in the 
heroic age of Holland. She had then asserted and maintained her national independence 
in an unequal contest of eighty years' duration against the colossal power of Spain, 
which, under Charles V. and his immediate successors, overshadowed and threatened the 
liberties of all Europe. This war with Spain excited the admiration of the world. It 
should also excite its gratitude. It was a contest for civil and religious liberty in behalf 
of mankind. After the close of this struggle, Holland battled single-handed against the 
combined powers of France and England. It was the age in which she produced 
Maurice, the greatest warrior of his times ; De Ruyter and Tromp, the ablest naval com- 
manders ; Grotius, who is yet authority on international law ; and Barnevelt and the De 
Witts, the purest and most skilful statesmen. Twice in a century her people let the sea 
cover their land rather than it should be occupied by tyrannical oppressors. Such was 
their love for knowledge, that when the republic wished to reward the citizens of Ley den 
for their heroic defence of their town, they chose an institution of learning rather than 
commercial advantages, to perpetuate the remembrance of their patriotism. We should 
be proud that we derive so many of our political principles from this people. 

" Nor is the debt of gratitude a local one. Holland was the asylum for the persecuted 
Puritans. It taught them the advantages of a republican form of government. Our 



638 APPENDIX. 

obligations are broader than this : they are national. Constitutional liberty was intro- 
duced into Great Britain by tlie revolution which placed upon the British throne the 
Prince of Orange, who had recently commanded the armies of Holland against those of 
England. The accession of the Dutch monarch essentially modified the character of the 
British government, and invigorated sentiments of freedom in all of her colonies. The 
Hollanders not only tolerated, but invited different nationalities and creeds to their new 
settlement. More enlightened than their age, they had made great advances in civil and 
religious liberty. They rejoiced in the cosmopolitan character of their inhabitants. 
The rebuke given by the directors to one of the governors, who was inclined to persecute 
the Quakers, is a clear and beautiful illustration of their sentiments: 'Let everyone 
remain free as long as he is modest, moderate, his political conduct irreproachable, and 
as long as he does not offend others or oppose the government. This maxim of modera- 
tion has always been the guide of our magistrates in this city (Amsterdam), and the 
consequence has been that people have flocked from every land to this asylum. Tread, 
then, in their steps, and we doubt not you will be blest.' It needs no argument to show 
where religious freedom was most respected. The "Walloons, the Waldenses, the Hugue- 
nots, and many from the eastern colonies, flying from persecution, and clustering around 
the harbor of New York, mark the spot where liberty and toleration were presented in 
their most attractive aspects. It requires no discussion to prove whence we get our best 
ideas of constitutional and commercial law and municipal freedom. Not from England, 
depressed by the tyranny of the Plantagenets, the Tudors, and the Stuarts, for long 
centuries, down to the period ot the settlement of this country ; but from republican 
Holland, the 'Venice of the North,' the ' Queen of the Seas,' v^ho, while struggling 
against the power of Spain, ' grasped the commerce of the world, and made it to supply 
the means to wage her unequal war with tyranny and wrong.' On the other hand, the 
vigor of character, the appreciation of education and religion, derived from the Puritans, 
are manifested in every quarter ot our land ; in public and private enterprises. Our 
people required and possess the characteristics derived from both of these sources. He 
who would seek to deprive the Hollanders or the Puritans of their just share of venera- 
tion, is unworthy to be the descendant of either." * * * 

" It has been truthfully said that the wisdom of our institutions exceeds the wisdom of 
their founders. They established principles of more scope and influence than their 
authors foresaw. The germ of the township system existed in Holland, was introduced 
from thence, and perfected here by causes independent of the political sagacity of our 
fathers. The condition of our country is rapidly developing this policy. Equality of 
rank and the necessities of a thin population on the borders of a boundless wilderness* 
made all other arrangements unsuitable. It was most rapidly spread in New England, 
for the growth of her colonies was most rapid. For this reason it has been supposed by 
many historians to be of New England origin. More correct investigations into govern- 
mental history show that it was a feature in the government of Holland long before the 
settlement of America. The relationships which that country bore to New Netherlands 
and tc the Pilgrims, entitle it to the honor of its introduction here. It is undoubtedly 
true that at first it was regarded merely as a convenient mode of conducting public 
affairs, and that it had no higher value in the minds of the early colonists. None foresaw 
its future importance. 

" This system of local self-government keeps at home the mass of political power. 
It yields to the remoter legislative bodies, in diminishing proportion, as they recede from 
the direct influence and action of the people ; it does not regard the central government 
as the source of authority, from which it percolates in limited measures to the lower 
jurisdictions : The vital principle of self-government is not the mere demagogical idea 
that the people, in their collective capacity, are endowed with a wisdom, patriotism, and 



APPENDIX. 639 

virtue superior to their individual characters. On the contrary, the people as a society- 
are as virtuous or as vicious, as intelligent or as ignorant, as brave or as cowardly, as the 
persons who compose it, and will always be viewed accordingly by every straightforward 
roan. The great theory of local self-government under which our country is expanding 
itself over our continent, without becoming weak by its extension, is founded upon these 
propositions ; that government is most wise, which is in the hands of those best informed 
about the particular questions on which they legislate; most economical and honest, 
when in the hands of those most interested in preserving ft agality and virtue ; most 
strong, when it only exercises authority which is beneficial in its action to the governed. 
These are obvious truths, but how are they to be made available for practical purposes? 
It is in this that the wisdom of our institutions consists. In their progress, they are 
developing truths in government which have not only disappointed the hopes of our 
enemies and dissipated the fears of our friends, but give promise in the future of such 
greatness and civilization as the world has never seen. 

*'The legislation which most affects us is local in its character. The good order of 
society, the protection of our lives and our property, the promotion of religion and 
learning, the enforcement of statutes, or the upholding of the unwritten laws of just 
moral restraints, mainly depend upon the virtue and wisdom of the inhabitants of town- 
ships. When we shall have fifty thousand towns, this system of government will in no 
degree become overloaded nor complicated. There will be no more for each citizen to do 
than now. Our town officers in the aggregate are more important than Congressmen or 
Senators. Hence the importance to our government of religion, morality, and education, 
which enlighten and purify tlie governed and the governor at the same time, and which 
must ever constitute the best security both for the advancement and happiness of our 
country. 

"The next organizations, in order and in importance, are boards of county officers, 
who control questions of a local character, but affecting more than the inhabitants of 
single towns. The people of the County of Oneida are more intelligent and more inter- 
ested in what concerns their own affairs, than any amount of wisdom or of patriotism 
outside of it. The aggregate transactions of our supervisors are more important than 
those of our State Legislature. When we have secured good government in towns and 
counties, most of the objects of good government are gained. In the ascending scale of 
rank and in the descending scale of importance, is the Legislature, which is or should 
be limited to State affairs. Its greatest wisdom is shown by the smallest amount of 
legislation, and its strongest claim upon our gratitude grows out of what it does not do, 

" Our general government is remarkable for being the reverse of every other system. 
Instead of being the source of authority, it only receives the remnant of power after all 
that concern town, county, and State jurisdictions have been distributed. Its jurisdic- 
tion, although confined within narrow limits, is of great dignity, for it concerns our 
national honor, and provides for the national defence. We make this head of our 
system strong by confining its action to those objects which are of general interest and 
value, and by preventing its interference with subjects upon which it cannot act with a 
due degree of intelligence. If our general government had the legislative power which 
is now divided between town, county, and State jurisdiction, its attempts at their exercise 
would shiver it into atoms. If it was composed of the wisest and purest men the world 
ever saw, it could not understand the varied interests of a land as wide as all Europe, 
and with as great a diversity of climate, soil, and social condition. The welfare of the 
several communities would be constantly sacrificed to the ignorance, the interests, or 
prejudices of those who had no direct interest in the laws they imposed upon others. 
Under our system of government, the right to interfere is less than the disposition many 
show to meddle with what they do not understand ; and over every section of our great 



640 APPENDIX. 

country there are local jurisdictions familiar with their wants, and interested in doing 
what is for the right. 

*' It required seven centuries to reform palpable wrongs in enlightened Britain, simply 
because the powers of its government, concentrated in Parliament, were far removed 
from the sufferings and injuries those wrongs occasioned. Under our institutions, evils 
are at once removed when intelligence and virtue have shown them in their true light to 
the communities in which they exist. As intelligence, virtue, and religion are thus 
potential, let us rely upon them as the genial influences which will induce men to throw 
off the evils which encumber them, and not resort to impertinent meddling, liowling 
denunciations, and bitter taunts, wliicli prompt individuals and communities to draw tlie 
folds of wrong more clogely about them. 

*' The theory of local self-government is not founded upon the idea that the people are 
necessarily virtuous and intelligent, but it attempts to distribute each particular power to 
those who have the greatest interest in its wise and faithful exercise. It gives to town- 
ships and counties and States the right to direct their local affairs, because they are the 
most intelligent about their own concerns. We know there are individuals wiser and 
better than the mass of these communities, but it acts upon the principle which governs 
us in private matters. When we are sick, we do not seek the wisest or the best man, 
but the wisest physician. If we wish to build, we do not look after the most learned man, 
but the most skilful mechanic. In the selection of agents, we choose those who are 
most interested in serving us faithfully. Acting upon these simple principles, the ten- 
dency of public opinion has constantly been in favor of taking power from central points 
and distributing it to those who have the strongest motives and the best intelligence for 
its judicious exercise. This system not only secures good government for each locality, 
but it also brings home to each individual a sense of its rights and responsibilities ; it 
elevates his character as a man ; he is taught self-reliance ; he learns that the perform- 
ance of his duty as a citizen is the best corrective for the evils of society, and is not led 
to place a vague, unfounded dependence upon legislative wisdom or inspirations. The 
principle of local and distributed jurisdiction not only makes good government, but it 
also makes good manhood. Under European governments but few feel that they can 
exert any influence upon public morals or affairs, but here every one know^s that his 
character and conduct will at least affect the character and influence of the town in 
which he lives. The conviction gains ground that the General Government is strength- 
ened and made most enduring by lifting it above invidious duties and making it the point 
about which rally the affections and pride of the American people, as the exponent to 
the world at large of our common power, dignity, and nationality." 

" My purpose in this imperfect sketcl^ of New York has been to point out its remark- 
able geographical position, to do justice to the first colonists, to vindicate the claims of 
its early statesmen to the gratitude of our whole country, and to call attention to the 
patriotism of its people. Heretofore, our citizens have been unjust to the history of 
their State. While our brethren, in other portions of the Union, have, with becoming 
and patriotic pride, recorded#the services of their ancestors, and have erected monuments 
to commemorate the great events which have occurred within their territories, we have 
been indifferent to the glorious annals of the past. We are more familiar with the early 
history of New England or Virginia than with our own. Their citizens have, with pious 
care, recorded the patriotic services of their fathers, and have rendered them familiar to 
the entire population of our Union. 

"While I have, on this occasion, briefly attempted to present to your consideration 
some of the prominent features in the history of our State, it must not be supposed that 
I desire to institute any invidious comparisons between New York and the other members 
of tliis glorious confederacy. I only wish to induce you to follow their example of 



APPENDIX. 641 

proper reverence for the memory of their fathers. "Wliile a monument towers upon 
Bunker Hill, exciting a just pride in the hearts of the citizens of Massachusetts, and 
respect in the minds of strangers for the State wliere Freedom's battle was begun, why 
is it that no stone marks the spot upon the plains of Saratoga, where Freedom's fight 
■was won? Every schoolboy in our land is taught that the first blood was shed at 
Concord; how many of our citizens know that the first surrender of a British flag, or 
weapon, was made at Ticonderoga? The traveller who sails through Long Island Sound, 
sees on the shores of Connecticut the monument which tells of the massacre of brave 
patriots on the Heights of Groton. But what is there to remind him who passes through 
the Valley of the Mohawk of the thousands who were slaughtered by ruthless savages 
during the French war and the revolutionary contest? We have all been made familiar 
•with the services which the statesmen of Virginia have rendered to the cause of civil 
liberty or constitutional law, while few are instructed that the earliest contests between 
the rights of the people and the pretended prerogatives of the crown were commenced 
and most strenuously maintained by the popular delegates in the Colonial Legislature of 
this State. The statesmen and the poets of New England strive to perpetuate the mem- 
ories of the Pilgrim Fathers, to record their sufferings, and to hallow the very spot upon 
which they trod. Plymouth Rock has been made a sacred shrine where they annually 
pour forth their gratitude for the civil and political blessings which they enjoy. But how 
little is known of the more varied and more interesting emigration to the shores of our 
own State. While we honor the Pilgrim Fathers, let us not forget the Hollanders, who 
made earlier settlements upon our shores, and who made the harbor of New York a place 
of refuge from bigotry, intolerance and wrong. 

"The past is full of noble examples animating us with patriotic love of our State and 
nation, but we must not confine our attention to the past. The present and the future 
have their obligations. Our geographical position imposes upon us peculiar duties in our 
relations to the rest of the Union. The progress of our nation will lessen the compara- 
tive importance of other States, however important they may be. It will be otherwise 
with us. Commanding the great avenues of commerce, of intercourse, and events, we 
grow with the growth of our country. It is our duty to emulate the patriotism of our 
fathers; to maintain the rights of the several States; to preserve their union, by confining 
the central government to the exercise of powers designed for the connnon dignity, 
defence, and welfare ; and to restrain those sectional passions and prejudices, which are 
apt to grow up in States whose isolated positions do not give them the advantages we 
enjoy, of constant intercourse with the citizens of every part of our broad land. In all 
that concerns New York, let us not only be mindful of the past, but in everything that 
affects the education, morality, progress, and patriotism of our State, be animated by the 
spirit of the motto emblazoned upon its shield — Excelsior." 



G. 

THE SOUTH SEA, AND OTHER SCHEMES.^ 

The events of this period are not only remarkable and interesting, but 
instructive. Such periods are constantly repeated, and man can best study 
his own nature by turning to the records of the past. The following 



1 Page 525. 

41 



G42 . APPENDIX. 

account of this speculative age, b}^ Tiiidal, is taken from Hansard's Pai- 
liaraentaiy Debates.^ 

" On the lotli of June, 1720, the king embarked at Greenwich, on board the Carolina 
yacht, and landed the next morning at Ilelvoetsluys, from whence he proceeded to 
Hanover. 

"Whilst the king was employed abroad in hearing and settling the grievances and 
interests of the nations and their sovereigns, particularly those of the protestants of 
Germany, the Kegency were no less employed at home in curbing the excessive desire of 
gain, which tlie progress of the South Sea Company had raised, and in curing the despair 
which attended its fall. As these are the most considerable events of this reign, and 
such as will never be forgot by Great Britain, they deserve to be related at large. 

" When the Bill passed in fiivour of the South Sea Company, it was expected, the 
stock would have greatly advanced, but the contrary happened ; for the day after it fell 
from 310 to 290. In order to raise it, a rumour was spread, that earl Stanhope had 
received overtures in France to exchange Gibraltar and Port-Malion for some places in 
Peru, for the security and enlargement of the English trade in the South Sea; which had 
its effect in Exchange-alley. For, on the 12th of April, five days after the royal assent 
was given to the bill, the directors opened their books for a subscription of a million, at 
the rate of 3007. for every 1007. capital. Such Avas the concourse of people of all ranks, 
that this first subscription was found to amount to above two millions of original stock. 
It was to be paid at five payments of 607. each, for one share of lOOZ. In a few days the 
stock advanced to 340, and the subscriptions were sold for double the price of the first 
payment. Tq raise tlie stock still higher, on the 21st of April it was declared in a Gen- 
eral Court, that the Midsummer dividend should be ten per cent, and all subscriptions 
should be entitled to tlie same. These Resolutions answering the end designed, the 
I^ircctors, to improve the infatuation of the monied men, opened their books for a second 
subscription of one million, at 4007. per cent. In a few hours, no less than a million and 
a half was subscribed at that rate ; and so great was the confidence which was placed in 
the Directors, that many deposited in their hands their annuities, without knowing what 
price tlie company would allow for them. 

" On the 19th of May, the Directors thought fit to settle the terms and prices for the long 
.and short annuities, which had been subscribed ; and the stock being that day 3757. per 
■cent, it was resolved to allow, for every 1007. per annum of the long annuities, 7007. in 
the capital stock (which at 3757. per cent, amounted to 2,6257.) and 5757. in bonds and 
money : So the total for each 1007. per annum amounted to 3,2007. or thirty-two years* 
purchase. For every 907. per annum of the short annuities, they agreed to allow 3507. 
in the capital stock, wliicli at 3757. per cent, amounted to 13127. 105. and in bonds and 
money, 2177. 10s. which together made 15307. or seventeen years' purchase. 

" These offers occasioned at first great murmurings among the Annuitants, who, having 
expected ten years, found they were to have but eight years and a quarter's purchase. 
Uponwhich some withdrew their orders, and others resolved not to subscribe. But the 
South Sea managers having found means to raise their stock to 5007. per cent, most of 
the annuitants appeared easy; so that it was computed, that, by the 29th of May, almost 
two-tliirds of tlie annuities Avcre subscribed. 

"The arts of the stock-jobbers drew a great concourse of persons of all ^ ranks into 
Exchange-alley, by whose unexampled eagerness of laying out their money in a fund, 
that promised so plentiful a return of gain, that stock, which about the latter end of May, 



1 Vol. VII, p. CJl. 



APPENDIX. Gi3 

was at about 550, rose on a sudden so prodigiously, that on Thursdaj", the 2d of June, it 
c ime up to 890. Many cautious persons being willing to take this opportunity to secure 
their great profits, there appeared the next day so many sellers in the alley, that, by two 
or three o'clock in the afternoon, the stock fell to 640 ; at which the Chief Directors of 
the South Sea Company, being alarmed, set their agents to work, by whose artful man- 
agement the stock was the same evening advanced to 750 ; about which price, with some 
small fluctuation, it continued till the closing of the Company's books on the 22d of 
June. In the mean time, the South Sea stock suffered a considerable shock. For many 
persons, who were to follow the king to Hanover, and others, who found a difficulty of 
making their second payment to the first subscription, were both equally desirous to turn 
their stock into money ; so that, for some days, the number of sellers exceeded that of 
buyers. Wherefore the managers of the Company formed two expedients ; the first was 
their lending out money, or notes, to the proprietors of their capital stock, to the sum 
of 400Z. upon 1001. original stock (which showed it to be worth above that sum) at the 
rate of il. per cent, per annum. The second was their giving public notice, * That all 
persons possessed of any of the Company's bonds, which fell due on the 25th of June, 
might then have their money for the same of the Company's cashier ; and that the bonds 
would be taken in on the second payment for the 2,250,000?. South Sea stock, sold by 
subscription after the rate of 300Z. for each lOOl. original stock.' By these means money 
being plenty, and the stock-jobbers in good humour, the South Sea Company opened 
their books for a third subscription, at the rate of 1,000Z. for each 100?. capital stock, to 
be paid in ten equal payments, one in hand, and the other nine half-yearly. But some 
men in power having taken this opportunity to oblige their friends, their lists were so 
full, that the Directors enlarged it to four millions capital stock, which at that price 
amounted to forty millions sterling. And, what is more strange, these last subscriptions 
were, before the end of June, sold at above 2,000?. per cent, advance, and, after the 
closing of the transfer-books, the original stock rose to above 1,0007. per cent. At the 
same time the first subscriptions were at 5G0, and the second at 610 per cent, advance, 
the Bank at 260, and East India at 440. 

"The whole nation was become stock-jobbers. The South Sea was like an infectious 
distemper, which spread itself in an astonishing manner. Every evening produced new 
projects, which were justly called Bubbles, new Companies appeared every day. These 
were countenanced by the greatest of the nobility. The prince of Wales i was governor 
of the Welsh Copper; the duke of Chandois, of York Buildings; the duke of Brido-e- 
water formed a company for building houses in London and Westminster. There were 
near a hundred different kinds of projects or bubbles ; and it was computed, that above 
a million and a half was won and lost by these unwarrantable practices, by which many 
unwary persons were defrauded and impoverished, and a few crafty men enriched, to the 
great detriment of domestic trade. The king had, the same day the Parliament rose, 
published a Proclamation,2 declaring all these unlawful projects should be deemed as 



' l"*The Speaker and Mr. Walpole conld not dis- number of about a hundred, were first set on foot 

Buade the Prince from being governor of this and promoted by crafty knaves; tlun pursued by 

Copper Company, though they told him he would be multitudes of covetous fools ; and, at last, appeared 

prosecuted, mentioned in parliament, and cried in to be in effect, what their vulgar appellation denoted 

the Alley, upon the foot of Onslow's Insurance, them to be, viz. Bubbles, or mere cheats. It was 

Chetwynde's Bubble, prince of Wales' Bubble, &c., computed, that near one million and a half sterling, 

he has already got 40,000^'. by It.' Coxe's Walpole. was won or lost by these extravagant and unwar- 

Correspondence ; Secretary Craggs to Earl Stan- rantable practices, whereby many unwary persons 

hope." were defrauded and impoverished, and a few busy 

2 '"This Proclamation put a stop to the late per- upstarts enriched, to the great detriment of domes- 

nicious projects and undertakings, which to the tic trade.' Political State." 



6U 



APPENDIX. 



common nuisances, and prosecuted as such ; with tlie penalty of 5007. for any broker to 
buy or sell any shares in them. Notwitlistanding tliis Proclanuition, several of the illegal 
projects were still carried on; upon which the Lords Justices, on the 12th of July, to 
put a stop to all farther proceedings, ordered all the Petitions,^ that had been presented 
for Patents and Charters, to be dismissed. 



1 '* The following Is a Copy of the said Order: 
♦'At the Council Chamber, Whitehall, the 12th of 
July, 1720. Present, their Excellencies the Lords 
Justices in Council, 

"Their excellencies the lords justices in council 
talcing into consideration the many inconveniences 
arising to the public, from several projects set on 
foot for raising of joint stocks for various purposes, 
and that a great many of his majesty's subjects have 
been drawn In to part with their money, on pretence 
of assurances that their Petitions for patents and 
charters, to enable them to carry on the same, would 
be granted : to prevent such Impositions, their 
excellencies, this day, ordered the said several Pe- 
titions, together with such reports from the Board 
of Trade, and from his majesty's Attorney and 
Solicitor-general, as had been obtained thereon, to 
be laid before them, and after mature consideration 
thereof, were pleased, by advice of his majesty's 
privy-conucil, to oraer. That the said Petitions be 
flismissed. Which are as as followeth : 

" ' Petition of several pe-sous, praying letters 
patent for carrying on a fishing trade, by the name 
of the Grand Fishery of Great Britain. 

" 'Petition of the company of the Royal Fishery of 
England, praying letters patent for such farther 
powers :is will eHectually contribute to carry on the 
said fishery, 

•' ' Petition of George James, in behalf of himself, 
and divers persons of distinction, concerned in a 
national Fishery, praying letters patent of incorpo- 
ration to enable them to carry on the same. 

" • Petition of several merchants, traders, and 
others, whose names are thereunto subscribed, pray- 
ing to be incorporated for reviving and carrying on 
a Whale fishery to Greenland and elsewhere, 

" ' Petition of Sir John Lambert, and others there- 
to subscribing, on behalf of themselves, and a great 
number of merchants, praying to be incorporated 
for carrying on a Greenland Trade, and particularly 
a Whale fishery in Davis' Straits. 

" * Another petition for a Greenland trade. 

•"Petition of several merchants, gentlemen, and 
citizens thereto subscribing, praying to be incorpo- 
rated for buying or building of ships to let or 
freight. 

" ' Petition of Samuel Antrim and others, praying 
].->tters patent for sowing hemp and flax. 

" * Petition of several merchants, masters of ships, 
sail-makers, and manufacturers of sail-cloth, pray- 
ing a charter for an incorporation, to enable them 
to carry on and promote the said manufactory by a 
joint stocK. 

*• ' Petition of Thomas Boyd, and several hundred 
merchants, owners and masters of ships, sail-makers, 
weavers, and other traders, praying a charter of In- 
corporation, impowering them to borrow money for 
purchasing lands, In order to the manufacturing 
eallcloth. and fine Holland. 

•"Petition on behalf of several persons intrusted, 
in a patent granted by the late King William and 



Queen Mary, for the making of linen and sail-cloth, 
praying, that no charter may be granted to any 
persons Avhatsoever for making sail-cloth, but that 
the privilege now enjoyed by them may be con- 
firmed, and likewise an additional power to carry on 
the cotton and cotton-silk manufactures. 

•"Petition of several citizens, merchants, and 
traders, iu London, and other subscribers to a Brit- 
ish stock, for a general insurance from fire in any 
part i f England, praying to be incorporated for 
carrying on the said undertaking. 

'"Petition of several of his majesty's loyal sub- 
jects of the city of London, and other parts of Great- 
Britain thereto subscribing, praying to be incorpo- 
rated for carrying on a general insurance from losses 
by fire within the kingdom of England. 

•"Petition of Thomas Burges, and others. His 
Majesty's subjects thereto subscribing in behalf of 
themselves and others, subscribers to a fund of 
1,2(X),000?, for carrying on a trade to His Majesty's 
German dominions, praying to be incorporated by 
the name of the Harbourg company, 

••'Petition of Edward Jones, a dealer in timber, 
on behalf of himself and others, praying to be in- 
corporated for the importation of timber from 
Germany, 

•"Petition of several merchants of London, and 
others, praying a charter of incorporation for 
carrying on a salt work. 

"'Petition of Captain Macpheadris, of London, 
on behalf of himself and several merchants, clothiers, 
hatters, dyers, and other traders, praying a charter 
of incorporation, impowering them to raise a suffi- 
cient sum of money, to purchase lands for planting 
and rearing a wood called Madder, for the use of the 
dyers, 

•"Petition of Joseph Galendo, of London, snufl?- 
maker, praying a patent for his invention to prepare 
and cure Virginia tobacco for snutf, in Virginia, and 
making it into the same within all His Majesty's do- 
minions.' 

LIST OF BUBBLES. 

"Besides the Projects and Undertakings above- 
mentioned many others had been set up and carried 
on, under the names of Bubbles, viz, 

•'For the importation of Swedish iron. 

" For supplying London with sea-coal, a subscrip- 
tion of three millions, 

" For building and rebuilding houses throughout 
all England, three millions. 

•' For making of muslin, 

"For carrying on and improving the British alum- 
works. 

•' For effectually settling the island of Blanco and 
SalTortugas. 

•' For an engine to supply fresh water for the in- 
habitants of the town of Deal. 

'• For buying and importing of Holland, Flanders- 
Lace, &c. 

'• For improvement of lands in Great-Britain, four 
millions subscription. 



APPENDIX. 



Gtto 



** The several sums, Intended to be raised by these projects, amounted to no less than 
300 millions sterling, a sum so immense, that it exceeds the value of all the lands in 
England, at the rate of 20 years' purchase. However, the eagerness of getting riches, 
by quick and easy methods, had at that time, so intoxicated the minds of most people of 



"For encouraging the breed of horses in England, 
and improving of glebe and church-lands, and re- 
pairing aud rebuilding parsonage and vicarage 
houses. 
"Per making of iron and steel in Great-Britain. 
•* For improving land in Flintshire, one million. 
" For purchasing lands, &c. to build on, two mil- 
lions. 
" For trading in hair. 

*• For erecting salt pans in Koly-Island, two mil- 
lions. 

" For buying and selling estates, lending money on 
mortgages, &c. 

" For carrying on an undertaking of great advan- 
tage, but nobody to know what it is. 

"For paving the streets of Loudon, two millions. 

" For furnishing funerals to any part of Great 
Britain. 

"Another for buying and selling lands, and lend- 
ing money at interest, five millions. 

** For carrying on the Royal fishery of Great 
Britain, ten millions. 

" For assuring of seamen's wages. 

"For erecting loan-offices for the assistance and 
euco iragement of the industrious, two millions. 

" For purchasing and leasing improveable lands, 
four millions. 

" For importing pitch and tar, and other naval 
stores, from North-Britain and America. 

" For the clothing, felt, and pantile trade. 

" For purchasing and improving a Manor and 
Royalty in Essex, &c. 

" For insuring of horses, two millions. 

" For exporting the woollen manufacture, and 
importing copper, brass, and iron, four millions. 

" For a grand dispensary, three millions. 

" For erecting mills for milling of lead, and pur- 
chasing of lead mines, &c. two millions. 

" For improving the art of making soap. 

" For a settlement on the island of Santa Cruz. 

•' For sinking pits, aud melting lead-ore in Derby- 
shire. 

" For making glass bottles, and glass. 

" For a wheel for perpetual motion, one million. 

" For Improving of gardens. 

" For insuring and increasing children's fortunes. 

" For entering and loading goods at the Custom- 
house, and for negotiating business for merchants. 

" For carrying on a woollen manufacture in the 
North of England. 

" For importing walnut-tree from Virginia, two 
millions." 

" For making Manchester stuffs of thread and 
cotton. 

" For making Joppa and Castile soap. 

" For the wrought iron and steel manufactures in 
this kingdom, four millions. 

" For dealing in lace, Hollands, cambrics, lawns, 
&c, two millions. 

" For trading in, and improving certain commodi- 
ties of the product of this kingdom, &c. three mil- 
lions. 



" For supplying the London markets with cattle. 
" For making looking-glasses, coach-glasses, &c. 
two millions. 

" For the tin and lead mines in Cornwall and Der- 
byshire. 
" For making rape oil. 

" For importing beaver-fur, two millions. 

" For making p;isteboard, packing-paper, &c. 

"For importing of oils and other materials used 
in the woollen manufactures. 

" For improving and iucrease of the silk manufac- 
ture. 

" For lending money on stocks, annuities, tallies, 
&c. 

" For paying pensions to widows, &c. at small dis- 
count, two millions. 

" For improving malt-liquors, four millions. 

"For a grand American fishery. 

" For purchasing and improving fenny lands ia 
Lincolnshire, two millions. 

" For improving the paper manufacture in Great 
Britain. 

" The bottomry society. 

" For drying malt by hot air. 

" For carrying on a trade in the river Oronoko in 
America. 

" For the more eftectual making of baize in Col- 
chester and other parts of Great Britain. 

" For buying of naval stores, supplying the 
victualling, and paying wages of the workmen. 

" For employing poor artificers, and furnishinT 
merchants and others with watches. 

" For improvement of tillage, and the breed of 
cattle. 

" Another for the improvement of our breed of 
horses. 

" Another for insuring of horses. 

" For carrying on the corn trade of Great Britain. 

" For insuring to all masters and mistresses the 
losses they shall sustain by servants, three millions. 

" For erecting houses, or hospitals, for taking in 
and maintaining bastard children, two millions. 

" For bleaching of coarse sugars, without the use 
of fire, or loss of substance. 

" For turnpikes and wharfs. 

" For insuring from thefts and robberies 

" For extracting silver from lead. 

" For making China and Delft ware, one million. 

" For importing of tobacco, and exporting it 
again to Sweden, &c. four millions. 

" For making iron with pit coal. 

" For furnishing the cities of London and West- 
minster, and the suburbs, with hay and straw. 

" For a sail and packing-cloth manufactory in Ire- 
land. 

" For taking up ballast. 

" For buying and fitting out ships to suppress 
pirates. 

" For importing timber from "Wales, two millions. 

" For rock-salt. 

" For the transmutation of Quicksilver into a 
malleable fine metal. 



(j4:Q 



APPENDIX. 



all degrees, that the most extravagant Bubbles found many subscribers ; some of wliom 
8old their first subscriptions at a great profit, whereby the last buyers were considerable 
losers. 

" The transfer-books of the South Sea Company were shut up the whole month of 
July. During that time, tliere was no great variation, except only that the price of the 
capital stock decreased gradually, from above 1000 to 930, in proportion as the third 
subscription at 1000 rose to 330 advance or clear profit. In the mean time, the direc- 
tors, at a meeting on the 8th of July, resolved to open their books for taking in subscrip- 
tions of the lottery tickets, and other short annuities, to the amount of six millions 
sterling. But, though they did not then think fit to declare at what rate they designed 



" Abont this time the following Ballad was public- 
ly sold and cried about in Exchange Alley, * which 
could not,' says the author of the Political State, 
* but be grating to the ears of many of the nobility, 
genti-y, officers of the army and other persons; 
who, by this time plainly saw, that by the mys- 
terious management of crafty knaves, they hart been 
led into a labyrinth, from whence they could not get 
out without the loss of a considerable part of their 
estates.' 

*' A South Sea. Ballad ; or. Merry Remarks upon 
Exchange Alley Bubbles. To a new Tune, called, 
'The Grand Elixir; or, the Philosopher's Stoue 
Discovered.' 



*• In London stands a famous pile. 

And near that pile an Alley, 
Where merry crowds for riches toil. 

And wisdom stoops to folly. 
Here sad and joyful, high and low, 

Court Fortune for her graces ; 
And as she smiles, or frowns, they show 

Their gestm-es and grimaces. 
2. 
•* Here stars and garters do appear, 

Among our lords the rabble ; 
To buy and sell, to see and hear 

The Jews and Gentiles squabble. 
Here crafty courtiers are too wise 

For those who trust to fortune ; 
They see the cheat with clearer eyes. 

Who peep behind the curtain. 
3. 
" Our greatest ladies hither come. 

And ply in chariots daily ; 
Oft pawn their jewels for a sum. 

To venture in tlie Alley. 
Young liarlots, too, from Drury Lane, 

Approach the 'Change in coaches. 
To fool away the gold they gain 

By their obscene debauches. 
4. 
"Long-Heads mny thrive by sober rules. 

Because they think, and drink not; 
But Headlongs are our thriving fools, 

vriio only diink, and think not. 
The lucky rogues, like Spauiel dogs. 

Leap into South Sea water. 
And there they fish for golden froga, 

Kot caring what comes a'ter. 



5. 
" 'Tis said, that Alchymists of old 

Could turn a brazen kettle. 
Or leaden cistern into gold. 

That noble, tempting metal ; 
But if it here may be allowed 

To bring in great and small things. 
Our cunning Soutli Sea. like a god. 

Turns uothinginto all things. 
6. 
" What need have we of Indian wealtli. 

Or commerce with our neighbours? 
Our constitution is in health. 

And riches crown our labours. 
Our South Sea ships have golden shrouds. 

They bring us wealth, 'tis granted ; 
But lodge their treasure in the clouds. 

To hide it till it's wanted. 
7. 
" O Britain, bless thy present state. 

Thou only happy nation ; 
So oddly rich, so madly great. 

Since Bubbles came in fashion ! 
Successful rakes exert their pride. 

And count their airy millions ; 
Whilst homely drabs ia coaches ride. 

Brought up to town on pillions. 
8. 
'• Few men who follow reason's rules. 

Grow fat with South Sea diet ; 
Toung rattles and unthinking fools 

Are those that flourish by it. 
Old musty jades, and pushing blados. 

Who've least consideration. 
Grow rich apace ; whilst wiser heads 

Are struck with admiration. 
9. 
" A race of men, who t'other day 

Lay crush'd beneath disasters. 
Are now by Stock brought into play. 

And made our lords and masters. 
But should our South Sea Babel fall. 

What numbers would be frowning? 
The losers then must ease their gall. 

By hanging or by drowning. 
10. 
" Five hundred millions, notes and bondSj 

Our Stocks are worth in value ; 
But neither lie in goods or lands, 

Or money let me tell ye. 
Tet though our foreign trade is lost. 

Of mighty wealth we vapour; 
When all the riches that we boast 

ConSiSt in scraps of I'aper." 



APPENDIX. 64:7 

to take those effects, yet the proprietors entirely trusted to their integrity, and readilj 
subscribed the same on the 14th and 15th of that month. After wliich the books were 
shut up. From that time to the end of July, the stock fell gradually from about 1000 to 
900, including the Midsummer dividend. In the mean time, it being confidently re- 
ported, that the capital stock was to be enlarged by a fourth subscription in money, some 
persons in eminent stations desired the principal managers to put off" the subscription, 
till the proprietors of the remaining part of the long annuities had subscribed, since the 
taking in of those public debts, in order to make them redeemable, was the main view, 
upon which the ministry and the parliament thought fit to encourage the South Sea 
project. Some pretend, that the men in power made this step, not only to free them- 
selves from the importunity of many, who sued to be set down in their lists, for a share 
in the next subscription ; but also, in order to reserve part of the to be increased capital 
stock, till a new set of directors were chosen, who should have a share in the profits of 
future subscriptions, in case the humour of buying up the same at an advanced price 
should last so long. However that be, in a committee of the Directors tlie 27th of July, 
it being considered that several persons, admitted as subscribers to the third subscription 
in money, had not yet made their first payment, it was resolved, That none but the Pro- 
prietors of their capital and increased stock should be admitted into the next subscription 
in money, at the rate of 20 per cent, so that a proprietor of 1,000Z. capital stock should 
be entitled to subscribe 2001. In this Resolution, they, who hitherto had carried on this 
great project, with equal skill and success, had undoubtedly two things in view ; first, to 
allaj' the murmurings of many of the old proprietors, Avho complained, that the directors 
and great men at court had ingrossed for themselves and their dependants most of the 
profits of the first three subscriptions. And, secondly, That, in case the eagerness of 
buyers should abate, which was to be apprehended from the daily sinking of the price of 
South-Sea stock, the company might- be assured, that the new subscribers would make 
the several payments, to which they should submit themselves, and for which their capital 
stock would be a sufficient security. On the other hand, many of the old proprietors 
were so far from looking upon this Resolution as a favour, that on the contrary, tliey did 
not stick to say, ' That the directors, having had cream for themselves, would now give 
* the proprietors the sour milk.' This complaint seemed to be the better grounded, be- 
cause it was well known that those, who had got most by the South- Sea, daily 
endeavoured to sell out, and secure their vast profits ; and, in particular, that the princi- 
pal projector of tliis scheme had bought considerable estates in Norfolk and other 
counties.^ 

" Pursuant to what had been desired, it was resolved on the 3d of August, at a Court 
of Directors, to receive subscriptions of all tlie remaining Long and Short annuities, 
Lottery Tickets, and other Public Securities, both redeemable and irredeemable. For 
wliich purpose the books were opened the next day at the South-Sea house, and continued 
so till the 11th of August. The day after, the Directors published the terms they 
intended to allow to the proprietors. For every lOOZ. a year of the Long Annuities, they 
offered 400Z. in the capital stock which at 8001. per cent, (the price then of stock, exclu- 



1 " How great the general Infatuation or thirst of not appear in the proposals, where it was also said, 

gain was, appears from the following instance : A that in a month the particulars of the project should 

proposal was otlered ' for carrying on an undertaking be laid open, and the money subscribed was then to 

• of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is.' be paid in. As extravagant as this scheme was, the 

The projector formed a scheme for half a million, projector in a forenoon received 1000 subscriptions, 

by which every subscriber, paying down two guineas with which, amounting to 2,000 guineas, he went off 

for subscribing, was to hare 100?. a year for every in the afternoon." 
ICOl. 60 subscribed. But how thiij was to be done did 



C48 APPENDIX. 

sive of the Midsummer dlvitlcnd) amounted to 3,2007., and in bonds or money 400Z. 
making in all 3,G00Z. or 36 years' purchase. For every 90Z. a year of the Short Annuities 
they aUowed 200?. stock, which at 800Z. per cent, amounted to 1,G00Z. or 17 years' pur- 
chase, and 7-ninths. The redeemable Annuities and debts (as well those at 4 per cent, 
as those at 5 per cent.) were to be taken in at 105 per cent, and allowed for the same in 
capital stock at the rate of 800Z. per cent, exclusive of the Midsununer dividend. 

*' Many of the Annuitants were not satisfied with these offers, which, they said, put so 
great a disparity (no less than near half by half) between them and the former subscri- 
bers ; for, by the resolution of the Directors of the 19th of May, there was allowed, for 
every lOOL a year of the Long Annuities, 700Z. in the capital stock, besides lOZ. per cent, 
for the Midsummer dividend, and, in bonds or money, 575Z. all which (computing the 
stock at 8001. per cent, as it was given to the present subscribers of the like annuities) 
amounted to G,735Z. whereas, by these last liesolutions, there was allowed, for the same 
annuities, only 3,G00Z. For this reason some of the last subscribers went to the South- 
Sea house, in order to withdraw their effects ; but they were told by the clerks, that 
there was no order from the directors for delivering them back ; so the affair rested, for 
some time, undetermined. 

"The uneasiness of the Annuitants put a fresh damp upon the South- Sea stock; but 
what affected it more was the boldness of many persons concerned in the illegal projects, 
who, in open defiance to the late acts of parliaments, to the king's proclamation, and to 
the orders and prohibitions of the Lords Justices, carried them on. Some of these com- 
panies, authorized either by charters or acts of parliament, did considerable prejudice to 
the South-Sea, by endeavouring to procure subscriptions. Upon this, the principal 
Directors of the South- Sea applied to those at the helm, and obtained an Order againjst 
them from the Lords Justices, which was published in the London Gazette of August the 
20th, and which greatly affected the stocks of the York- Buildings Company, the Lustring 
Company, the English Copper, and the Welsh Copper and Lead, and of other illegal 
projects. This very much alarmed the persons concerned in these companies, some of 
whom sustained considerable losses, and all of them saw their extravagant hopes and 
expectations entirely vanish. Upon the murmurings occasioned by their disappointment, 
the Lords Justices ordered the Directors of these Companies to attend them at a general 
council, the 23d of August, where they condescended to tell them the reasons, that had 
obliged them to order a prosecution against them. The Directors, both of the Royal 
Exchange, and of the London Assurance, attended likewise, and were cautioned to keep 
strictly to the limitation of their charters, that no complaint might lie ngainst them. 

"The Companies ordered to be prosecuted, having recovered their fright, and con- 
sulted able lawyers, seemed l-esolved to stand trial, and assert their rights of managing 
their own affairs as they pleased. The Welsh Copper miners were yet more bold and 
refractory, for that very day (August 23) they opened their books, and made transfer of 
their stock. 

"Before the Lords Justices had caused their order to be published, they sent a compli- 
ment to the prince of Wales, to acquaint him, that, the Company of English Copper, of 
which he had been pleased to be chosen governor, being illegal, they were obliged to 
involve it in the order ; upon which the Prince sent a messenger to the Company, desirii.g 
them to choose another governor. 

" All this while the South-Sea Stock continued sinking; so that on the 17th of August, 
it fell to 830, including the Midsununer dividend ; which having given the directors no 
small uneasiness, some of their agents were immediately detached into Exchange-Alley, 
to buy a considerable quantity of stock, wliich thereupon rose to 880Z. But, the humour 
of selling out continuing the two following days, the stocks fell again to 820, at wbifh 
price the transfer books were opened on the 22d of August. That day, and the next 



APPENDIX. 649 

morning, there was a great crowd at the South-Sea house ; and the directors observing, 
that great quantities of stock had been bought at a thousand, and even at higher rates, 
for the opening of the books, and that many persons would be obliged to sell out, in 
order to pay the difference, which could not fail of sinking the stock yet lower, they 
came to a sudden and unexpected resolution to shut the transfer books ; and the next 
day to open other books, for taking in a money subscription of one million, to the capital 
stock, at the rate of 1,000Z. for every 100?. capital stock, to be paid in five payments, 201. 
per cent, in hand, and the rest in four equal payments. Accordingly the subscription 
books were opened the 24th of August ; and there was such a crowd of subscribers, and 
amongst them not a few of the prime nobility, that, in less than three hours, more than 
the intended sum was subscribed ; and that very afternoon this fourth subscription was 
sold in Exchange- Alley at 30 or 40 per cent, advance. The next day the principal 
directors, having consulted together about their future management, came to several 
Resolutions, of which, that very evening, they informed the public by the following 
Advertisement : — 

South- Sea House, Aug. 25, 1720. 
"'The court of directors of the South-Sea Company give notice, that the transfer 

* books of the company will be shut from the 31st day of August to the 21st of Septem- 

* ber, in order to the admitting as well the proprietors of the original capital stock, and 

* of the stock for the last Midsummer dividend, as the proprietors of the stock for all the 
' Long Annuities, 9 per cents., and Tickets of Lottery 1710, and of the several redeem- 
' able debts, which have been subscribed or deposited, or authorized to be subscribed 

* into the capital stock, and also the proprietors of the first, second, third, and fourth 

* money subscriptions of the company into a subscription of 20 per cent, of the capital 

* stock, upon the terms agreed upon by the court of directors. The company will lend 
' the first payment for the intended subscription to all the proprietors of the original and 
' dividend stock, and of the subscription in the Long Annuities, 9 per ce^ts, and Tickets 

* of Lottery 1710, and in the redeemable debts; and of the first and second money sub- 

* scriptions, without transferring their stock, or depositing the subscription receipts ; 

* wliich subscription books will be opened on the 12th of September ; and such of the 

* proprietors, as do not subscribe within that time, will be excluded the benefit of the 
' subscription.' 

" The next day (August the 2Gth) the transfer-books were opened again ; but, the 
South-sea stock, instead of advancing, being by this time fallen under 800, the directors, 
who had now large sums of money in their hands, thought fit to len.d to their proprietors 
4,000Z. upon every 1,000Z. stock for six months, at the rate of 4 per cent, which enabled 
some of those, who had bought stock at a higher price than the present, to satisfy their 
creditors. What still embarrassed the directors was the case of the Annuitants and 
others, who had lately subscribed their public securities, and who thought it a great hard- 
ship to have the stock given them at 800Z. per cent, when it was now little above 700, 
exclusive of the Midsummer dividend. In order to silence these and the like murmur- 
ings, a long consultation, on the 30th of August, after the directors came to a resolution, 
' That 30 per cent, in money should be the half year's dividend due at Christmas next ; 
and from thence for twelve years, not less than 50 per cent, in money should be the 
yearly dividend on their stock.' What effect this resolution had, was soon after mani- 
fest ; for, though it raised the stock to about 800 for the opening of the books, yet it soon 
sunk again, and in about three weeks fell gradually below 400. 

*' The Directors, having resolved the future dividends, thought it time to procure the 
sanction of the whole corporation; for which purpose they appointed (Sept. 8,) a Gen- 
eral Court to be held at Merchant-Taylors-Hall, declaring, That this assembly would be 



650 APPENDIX. 

one of the half-yearly general courts appointed by the charter, and to choose a committee 
of seven, to inspect the by-laws. 

"On the appointed day, the friends of the Directors took care to repair betimes to 
Merchant-Taylors- Hall, which, by nine o'clock in the morning, was filled; and many 
proprietors and annuitants, who endeavoured to get in, could not gain admittance. The 
directors having taken their seats between eleven and twelve o'clock. Sir John Fellows, 
sub-governor, acquainted the assembly with the occasion of their meeting ; read to them 
the several Resolutions of the Court of Directors ; and gave them an account of their 
proceedings ; of the taking in both the redeemable and irredeemable funds, and of the 
subscriptions in money. This done, Mr. Craggs, Senior, made a short speech, wherein 
lie commended the conduct of the Directors ; and urged, that nothing could more 
effectually contribute to the bringing this scheme to perfection than union among them- 
selves ; and concluded with a motion, for thanking the court of Directors for their 
prudent and skilful management, and for desiring them to proceed in such methods, as 
they should think most proper for the interest and advantage of the corporation. 

"Mr. Craggs was seconded by Mr. Hungerford, who said, 'That he had seen the rise 
' and fall, the decay and resurrection of many communities of this nature, but that, in 

* his opinion, none ever performed such wonderful things in so short a time, as the South 
' Sea managers had brought about : that they had done more than the crown, the pulpit, 

* and the magistrate could do : for they had reconciled all parties in one common interest, 
' and thereby laid asleep, if not wholly extinguished, our domestic jars and animosities : 
' that by tlie rise of their stocks the monied-men had vastly increased their fortunes : the 
' country gentlemen had seen the value of their lands doubled and trebled in their hands ; 
' and they had, at the same time, done good to the church, not a few of the reverend 
' clergy having got great sums by this project : that, in short, they had inriched the 

* whole nation; and he hoped they had not forgot themselves.' One or two members of 
the assembly having offered to speak in favour of the annuitants, to censure the conduct 
of the directors, they were presently hissed to silence ; and Mr. Hungerford, resuming 
his speech, continued justifying and applauding the directors, and concluded with sup- 
porting Mr. Craggs' motion. The duke of Portland spoke on the same side, and said, 

* that he did not know what reasons anybody had to be dissatisfied ;' and gave in a draught 
of the motion for returning thanks to the directors ; wliich being read by the clerk, it 
was unanimously approved. It was likewise agreed, that, according to the Resolution of 
the Directors, ' the next Christmas dividend on the stock and subscriptions in money 
should be 30 per cent, and that a dividend of not less than 50 per cent, per annum be 
made from Christmas next, in half yearly payments, for not less than twelve years, upon 
the whole stock and subscriptions.' They likewise agreed with the Court of Directors, 
to omit the 20 per cent subscription in money, which had been intended for the proprie- 
tors of the original stock and former subscriptions. After which a motion was made, 

* That the last subscribers, both of the redeemable and irredeemable funds, should have 
the alternative, either to withdraw their orders, or accept the terms offered them by the 
Court of Directors.' But, the question being put, it was carried in the negative, three 
or four voices excepted. Then, upon the earl of Orkney's motion, the general court was 
adjourned. 

"Ijut, though the Directors carried their main point in the general court, yet the 
negative put upon the motion, in the behalf of the last subscribers, highly increased the 
public discontent, and raised such a distrust of the honesty of the managers, that the 
same day (Sept. 8,) the stocks fell to 040, and, on the morrow, to 550. Upon this, the 
directors resolved to open the transfer-books the Monday following, which having thrown 
some damp upon the Stock-jobbing in the Alley, the South-Sea rose that day (Sept. 9,) 



APPENDIX. 651 

to 640. On the other hand, several of the last subscribers of annuities went with a 
public notary to the South- Sea House, to demand their orders ; and upon the refusal of 
the officers to deliver them, the proprietors made their protests in due form, and resolved 
to seek their remedy at law. In the mean time, they loudly complained of the unfair 
manner, in which they were drawn in to subscribe their annuities, for, it seems, at the 
top of every page of the subscription-book, there was a short letter of attorney, whereby 
the subscribers empowered three persons, therein named, to accept such terms, as the 
company should think fit to give them for their effects ; which they alleged lo be a mere 
trick, not one in a hundred of the subscribers having read the insnaring preamble. 

" On the 10th of September, the directors caused the following advertisement to be 
publislied : ' The court of directors give notice, that the dividends for Christmas next, 
' and afterwards, voted by the general court on the 8th of September, which shall become 

* due on the four money subscriptions, already taken for the sale of the stock of the 

* company, will be allowed in part of the payments, which shall become due on the 

* subscriptions ; and that the 10 per cent, stock for the last Midsummer dividend, on the 

* first, second, and third of the money subscriptions, will be entitled to the like dividends, 

* and be allowed in further part of the payment on those subscriptions. And whereas 

* the transfer-books of the company were advertised to be shut from the 31st of August 
' last, to the 21st of September, in order to the making the subscriptions of 20 per cent. 
' intended for the proprietors ; and the general court having since agreed, that this sub- 
' scription be omitted, the court of directors give notice. That the transfer-books will be 
' opened on the 12th instant, and will c intinue open as usual.' 

" Some of the managers vainly expected, that this advertisement would have con- 
tributed to the keeping up the stock ; but, as it continued sinking, they were obliged to 
liave recourse to more effectual methods. They made some secret advances towards an 
union with the East-India company; but, a secret committee of that company, appointed 
to consider of their offers, not having thought proper to accept them, they were forced to 
court the assistance of their rival, the Bank of England. At the earnest desire, and by 
the zealous interposition of Mr. Secretary Craggs, several conferences were held between 
a select number of the directors of those two corporations ; which raised so great an 
expectation, that on the 12th of September,! in the morning, upon a report, that they had 



1 "'Sept. 13. I came (as I told you I would) to the case just att this time, some other reason must bee 

towne, in order to adjust the matter of your Lottery found; and the true one I take to hee, stretching 

ticketts, pursuant to the advertisement of the South credit soe far bey nd what 'twould beare, that specie 

Sea company. Yesterday was the day appointed proves deficient for supporting itt, by circulating 

butt (as is customary with them) they have p tt itt paper. It is observable, that many of their most 

of, and those concerned are to wait their leisure, considerable men, with their fast friends, the tories, 

and take such satisfaction as they thinkefitt to give. I'acobites, and papist , (for these they have all along 

Wee made them kings, and they deal with everybody hugged) have drawno out, securing themselves by 

as such ; those whoe submit and subscribe are at the losses of the deluded thoughtlesse numbers, 

their mercy ; those whoe doe nott, are to be opprest whose understandings were over-ruled by avarice, 

in such manner, as shall make what is due to them and hopes of making mountains of mole hills. Thou- 

of little use; and all this, I 6upi>ose, they are to be sands of familyes will be reduced to beggery, what 

supported in, having engaged the House of Commons the consequences of that will be, time must shew; 

Boe far in their interest, by wayos obvious to every- I know what I thought from the beginning, and 

body, that I thinke the nation will bee to beare such fearc 'tis very near att hand. The consternation is 

part of the losse sustained by private persons, as the inexpressible, the rage beyond expression, and the 

company shall thinke fitt ; whilst the gaine obtained case so desperate, that I doe nott see any plan or 

by fraud and villainous practices, is to turne to their scheme, so much as thought of, for averting the 

advantage. I foresaw this from the beginning, and blow, soe that I can't pretend to guesse att what is 

have as many witnesses of itt, as persons I converst next to bee done. 

with ; but I owne, I thought they would have carryed " ' Sept. 27. The Company have yett come to noe 

on the cheat somewhat longer. Various are the con- determination, for tht y are in such a wood, that they 

jectures why they suffered the cloud to break soe know nott which way to turne, butt 'tis given out 

early, I made noe doubt butt 'twould doe soe when (I suppose by direction) that they will lower the 

they found it for their advantage, which nott being price of the third and fourth subscriptions, and 



652 



APPENDIX. 



come to an agreement for circulating six millions of the Soutli-Sea company's bonds, the 
stock rose immediately to 670 ; but in the afternoon, as soon as that report was known 
to be groundless, the stock fell again to 580; the next day to 570, and so gradually to 
400 ; which increased the murmurings and complaints of the last subscribers, and ex- 
posed several of the directors to public insults. 

" Mr. Robert Walpole, M'ho was paymaster of the army, and lived the greatest part of 
that summer in the country, to avoid giving offence to those that had, with the directors, 
the management of the South Sea affairs, being then thought to have great credit and 
influence with the Bank, was sent for out of the country, and importuned to use his inter- 
est to induce the Bank to agree to a Proposal made by the South Sea Company, for 
circulating a number of their bonds, 

*' It is to be observed that nothing of this kind arose from the Bank, or was at their 
motion; and, as far as it appears, nothing but an apprehension of the people's resent- 
ment, with which they were loudly threatened, could have prevailed with the Bank to 
have treated at all with the South Sea Company, and involve themselves in their calami- 
ties. But the clamour was irresistible, and the Bank, out of necessity, hearkened to the 
Proposals of the South Sea Company ; for from them every step and motion proceeded. 



offer more reasonable termes to the redeemables 
leaving to their option the acceptance, or returne of 
their severallsecurityes.these to remain on the foote 
they are, till discharged by payment inmony; noe 
doubt att first they intended nothing lesse, but as 
Mr. Budgell told them in the generall court, since the 
mountain would nott come toMahome:, hee must 
goe toe the mountain. You misunderstood mee in 
thinking, I expected a speedy dissolution: that had 
been considered and lay'd aside, notwithstanding 
which, as earnest application was every where 
making, as if elections were to begin witliin a 
month, this was begun by the South Sea men, and 
great snmes have they already spent, butt, if I mis- 
take not, they will meet with more disappointments 
than they expected ; for by several gentlemen, lately 
come to towne, I perceive the very name of a South 
Sea man, growe a')ominable in every country. 

"'Your remark is very Just, that if this great 
Leviathan intended to have been directors of the 
whole national affairs, as well as of the company 
doe fall, it will necessarily occasion, such a convul- 
sion, as noe honest man desires; but I think there 
remains a middle way between the two extremes, by 
supporting their creditt, as far as in reason itt ought 
to bee supported, distinguishing between what 
ought properly to bee called creditt, and chimoricall 
calculations, and the one is certainly practicable, 
without running into the other. A great many 
goldsmiths are already gone of, and more will daily. 
I question whether one third, nay, a fourth can 
stand itt ; the cause of which, is this, those whoe had 
either originally, or buying with mony gott by 
taking differences, run into pretty considerable, 
quantitycs of 8<tock, nott being therewith content, 
butt resolving to sitt down with nothing lesse than 
hundred thousands, in order to obtaine which, gave 
vast praemiums to the goldsmiths for mony, pawning 
their stock some att four, others att five and six 
hundred, this being lookt uppon as good as land se- 
curity : the mony th 'S U-nt by the goldsmiths was in 
cash notes, which whilst paper had creditt, answered 
the end as well as specie ; butt as soon as a run was 
nppon them, they found (by reason of tlie stocks 
sinking) their pledgee would not produce cash to 



answer their notes, and thus one after another are 
they every day going of. 

" • From the very beginning, I founded my judg- 
ment of the whole affair uppon this unquestionable 
maxim, that ten millions (which is more than our 
running cash) would not circulate two hundred mil- 
lions, beyond which our paper creditt extended; that 
therefore, when ever that should become doubtful!, 
bee the cause what itt would, our noble state ma- 
chine must inevitably fall to the ground, or att best 
bee brought within soe much a narrower compasse 
than what was projected, that our most sanguine 
people would find notliing more appositely express- 
ive of their vain hopes than 

Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. 

"' I endeavoured, with an honest and friendly in- 
tention, to persuade as many of my friends aa I 
conversed with, to secure the main chance, and nott 
dip (at least) out of their depth, in case they should 
resolve to go with the current. Some few were 
prevailed uppon by such arguments as I thought 
well founded, whose hearty thanks and acknowledg- 
ments I have receiv'd; butt the far greater part 
concluding (as I must own I did) that the thing 
would have been carryed on for some longer time, 
have on this supposition, run themselves aground, 
which they dearly repent : into this they were gen- 
erally lead by assurances from the gent, whose nose 
bled, and whoe himselfe was certainly duped by the 
honest directors from whom hee receiv'd informa- 
tion, whilst they were all the time (underhand) 
selling out as fast as tliey could. That hee was 
duped, I thinke past doubt, from his having by his 
influence, brought all his particular friends, and 
even his owue family and nearest relations, soe far 
into the mire, as that few of them will, during their 
lives, surmount the losse, others of them are soe 
totally undone, as to be beyond possibility of re- 
trieving itt. Possibly, before the end of next 
session, I may bee called a South Sea man, for I shall 
nott join with those Avhose losses have so far exas. 
perated them, as to bee desirous, out of revenge to 
run into extremes, which may endanger the nation. 
Farewel.'— Coxe's Walpole. Correspondence: Mr. 
Thomas Brodrick to lord Chancellor Middleton." 



APPENDIX. 653 

" The first expedient was for the Bank to circulate bonds of the South Sea Company 
to a certain value for a time to be agreed upon, and a proposal to that eficct was, on the 
16th of September, sent to the Bank by the Sub and Deputy Governors of the South Sea 
Company. 

" This not being relished immediately it was proposed, that there should be a meeting 
of a Committee, consisting of five of each Company, at the post-master's house, where 
were likewise present, lord president, Mr. Secretary Craggs, the chancellor of tlie ex- 
chequer, and Mr. Craggs, post-master-general.i The meeting was on the 19th of 
September, three days after the Proposal. 

*' This conference lasted many hours, with great reluctance on the part of the Bank, 
but was pressed with so much eagerness and authority on the other side, that the Bank 
was prevailed upon to yield. 

*' It was thought proper, before they parted, that something should be reduced into 
writing, as a minute of the substance of what had been under consideration, and to serve 
as a foundation of a future agreement or contract between the two companies. 

*' There was some little dispute who should draw the Minute, but it being the general 
desire of the company, that Mr. Walpole should do it, in the presence of the whole 
meeting, he put down in writing what has ever since been called. The Bank Contract, and 
which was in the following words : ' That the Bank of England shall undertake to cir- 

* culate three millions of South Sea bonds for one year, at a premium to be agreed upon 

* by the two companies ; a subscription to be taken, for enabling the Bank to carry on 

* the circulation, — per cent, to be paid down by every subscriber, and — per cent, upon 

* every call at a fortnight's notice ; the contract with the subscribers to be made in the 

* nature and form with former contracts, for circulating Exchequer bills, and the charges 

* of circulation to be borne by the South Sea company. That, in consideration of this 

* undertaking the South Sea company shall pay the 3,7OO,000Z. to be paid to the Bank, 

* by notice of parliament, in South Sea stock, at a price to be agreed upon between the 

* two companies.' 

*' This Paper, (which was all that Mr. Walpole ever wrote relating to the affair; for at 
the other meetings he was never once present) had no title or preamble, signifying what 
it imported : the premium for circulating, and what was to be paid down for the circula- 
tion, was left blank, and the most material part of the whole, at what price the Bank was 
to take the South Sea stock for 3,700,000Z. was referred to a subsequent agreement. So 
it could not, with any propriety, be called a Contract, but rather a rough draught of an 
agreement, void of all form or any manner of obligation. 

" The next day after this meeting (Sept. 20) there was a General Court of the South 
Sea Company, at Merchant-Taylor's-hall, where Sir John Fellows, the sub-governor, 
acquainted them, ' That, since their last meeting, their stock having taken an unexpected 

* turn to the disadvantage of the company, the directors had been consulting what might 

* be most for the benefit of the corporation ; and considering tlie great credit the Bank of 

* England had justly gained, both at home and abroad, they had thought it for their 

* interest to treat with that company for the circulating their bonds, and to grant them 
' stock at a moderate price in lieu of the 3,700,000Z. which the South Sea Company was 

* to pay them at Lady-day and Michaelmas, 1721. And that from the result of the meet- 

* ing they had the night before with some gentlemen of the Bank, and some persons of 
' the first rank, they doubted not but such an agreement might soon be perfected.' 
Hereupon ^Ir. Dawson moved, ' That the directors be impowered to agree with the Bank 



l**Thefive directors of South Sea were Sir John The five Bank Directors were, Mr.Hanger.governor; 
Fellows, sub-governor; Charles Joye, deputy-gov- Sir John Ward, Sir Gilbert Ueathcote, Sir Peter 
ernor; Sir Theodore Jangen, Mr. Gore, Mr. Chester. Delme, Sir Nathaniel Gould." 



654 APPENDIX. 

* of England, or any other persons, to circulate the company's bonds, or make any other 

* agreement with the Bank, which they should judge proper :' and he was seconded by 
Sir John Eyles. Hereupon Mr. Ilungerford moved for amending the latter part of the 
question, by making express mention of that other agreement. But Mr. Pulteney spoke 
for the question, and thought it best to use a latitude of expression, and so leave the 
directors at liberty to act as they should think proper for the interest of the company. 
He added, ' That it was a matter of surprise to see what a panic had seized upon the 

* minds of the people, at a time when the nation was in profound peace, and had nothing 
' to fear, either at home or from abroad. That, indeed, a rumour had been universally 
' spread, as if the armament of the Spaniards was designed either against Port Mahon 

* or Gibraltar; but that betook that report to be altogether false and groundless, and 

* only intended to scandalize that potentate, and to terrify the people here ; for he him- 
' self had seen and perused a copy of a letter, written by the express command of the 

* king of Spain by his secretary of state to the British minister at Madrid, absolutely 

* denying, in the strongest terms, any designs of the Spanish forces against any of his 

* Brittanic majesty's dominions. That he was as much concerned in the company as 

* most people, but that notwithstanding this general and terrible alarm, he had not dis- 
' posed of any part of his stock ; for he would think it a scandal to be rich, if the nation 

* were ruined. That, however, he hoped the case would be quite otherwise ; and he 

* doubted not but the company would soon be restored to its former flourishing condition, 

* since it was like to be supported by the Bank of England, a corporation, who by wise, 

* though slow and cautious measures, had established its credit, not only at home, but 

* even among foreigners.' Upon this the question was unanimously agreed to. Sir 
John Fellows then farther acquainted the assembly, ' That, the proprietors of the several 
' annuities lately subscribed, as well as those interested in the last two money-subscrip- 

* tions, being very much dissatisfied, fearing thereby to be great losers, the directors had 
' thought it proper, that the terms should be lowered to make them easy.' Whereupon 
Sir Matthew Decker moved, ' That power be given to the directors to relieve the 

* annuitants, who came in upon the last subscription : as likewise the proprietors of the 

* third and fourth money subscriptions.' He was seconded by Mr. Craggs, senior, who 
among other things, said, * That nothing could be more reasonable and just, than to give 

* satisfaction to people who had trusted their fortunes and estates with the company, and 

* that it would be a notorious robbery to take any advantage of their confidence in the 

* honour and integrity of the directors.' This gave occasion to Mr. Budgel i to reflect 
in a speech, on the prodigious leap, from a subscription of 400Z. to one of 1,000Z. which 
left such a gap in the building, as would at last bring it to the ground. He then observed, 
that the fall of the stock was owing to the malicious rumour, that two or three of the 
very directors had basely betrayed the trust reposed in thea. When he had done 



1" This is the Eustace Budgel alluded to by Pope. ' &c. (after a legacy to his maid-servant) give and 

" * Thrice Budgel aim'd to speak, but thrice supprest • bequeath to Eustace Budgel, the sum of two thou- 

♦♦ By potent Arthur, knocked liis chin and breast.' 'sand one hundred pounds, that his great talents 

"Again, 'may serve his country, &c. my strong box, my 

•* ' Let Budgel charge low Grub-Street on his quill, • diamond ring, MS. books, &c. (Signed) Mat. Tin- 

" * And write whate'er he pleased, except his Will.' • dal.' 

" *Tlie last line alludes to Tindal's Will ; by which, "*The reverend l^icholas Tindal, his nephew- 

and other indirect practices, Budgel, to the exclusion author of the Continuation of Rapin, declared 

of the next heir, a nephew, got to himself almost the his suspicion that this Will was forged. Thla 

whole fortune of a man entirely unrelated to him. was generally credited, and. Budgel, in 1737, threw 

Respecting the circumstance hinted at, of Eustace himself out of a boat and was drowned. He wrote 

Budgel having forged Dr. Tlndal's Will, the reader several of the Spectators; the History of the Boyles, 

might perhaps wish to have some further account, earls of Shannon, &c. and a weekly pamphlet called 

Dr. Tindal, of All Souls College, Oxford, of notorious the Bee. The cause of his death was supposed to 

character, the Author of Christianity as old as the have been in relation to this Will.' Pope's Works, 

Creation, left f lie following Will, ' 1 Matthew Tindal, vol. 4, p. 62. Bowles, Edit. 1806." 



APPENDIX. 655 

speaking, Mr. Chester, one of the directors, spoke in vindication of his brethren, and 
said, ' That he knew of no proceedings among them, but what were intended for the 
' good of the whole company ; that for his own part, he had not sold any of his stock, 

* nor reserved to hin)self any more of the subscriptions than what was allowed to each 

* of the directors ; and that his fortune would have been as large, if he had not been a 

* director; that as to the great gap between the second and third subscription, in money, 

* which Avas objected as a wrong step in the management of the company's affairs, he 

* could assure them, that it was none of the directors' fault, since they designed to have 

* made the third subscription at five or six hundred ; but, the humour and eagerness of 

* the people having run up the South Sea stock to seven or eight hundred, they could not 
^ in prudence open a subscription at less than a thousand.' The assembly seemed to be 
very well pleased with Mr. Chester's speech; but many wondered, that none of his 
brethren took that opportunity to clear themselves, as he had done. Upon the whole 
matter, the court unanimously agreed to the question for relieving the last subscribers, 
and then adjourned. 

*' Two days after, Sept. 22, there was a General Court of the Bank of England, when 
the governor acquainted them, that this was one of their quarterly and half yearly 
meetings, and that their directors had come to a resolution to declare the last half-yearly 
dividend at four per cent; to which the court having unanimously agreed, the governor 
proceeded, saying, ' lie presumed, none could be ignorant there had of late been divers 

* meetings and conferences between the directors of this company and the directors of 

* the South Sea, under the influence and interposition of some persons of the highest 

* figure and station : that they had made no agreement yet with the South Sea ; but that 

* the directors had thouglit fit to come to a resolution upon the matter.' Then the reso- 
lution was read ; and, without any person's speaking to it, was immediately formed into 
a question to this effect ; ' That, for the better support of the public credit, the directors 

* of the Bank of England be impowered to agree with the directors of the South Sea, to 

* circulate their bonds to wliat sum, and upon what terms, and for what time, they shall 

* think proper; and to make what other agreements with the South Sea, they shall judge 

* to be for the interest of this corporation :' which question was instantly agreed to with 
great unanimity. Then the Governor acquainted them, that he believed books would be 
ready for a subscription to be taken in, the next day, for the purpose aforesaid, and that 
it would be on the usual terms, 15?. per cent, deposit, and 3Z. per cent, premium, and 51. 
per cent, interest, and then the court adjourned. 

*' The Directors of the two Companies being thus empowered, a Committee of both 
met on the 23d of September, and a Proposal was made by one of tlie directors of the 
SoL.th Sea Company, ' That the 3,700, OOOZ. (which the South Sea Company was to repay 

* to the Bank .t Lady-day, and Michaelmas 1721) should be subscribed by the Bank into 

* the stock of the South Sea Company, for which the Bank was to have such shares as 

* tlie funds would produce, the stock being valued at 400Z. per cent.' 

''This Proposal was the next day reported at a court of the directors of the Bank; 
and, being agreed to, was the same day communicated, by a director of the Bank, to the 
court of directors of the South Sea Company. 

*' This, in short, is the History of the famous Bank Contract, which has made so much 
noise- The substance of all which is, that, in the day of distress, the Bank was thought 
the only resource to support the sinking state of the South Sea Company. Every one 
that was tliought capable of giving any assistance was called in : at the first conference 
Mr. Walpole assisted, and the Bank was persuaded to undertake what was proposed to 
them ; the first part of the proposition, and, indeed, the original proposal for circulating 
the bonds, upon whicli tlie first conference was iield, was dropped by the South Sea 



650 ArPENDix. 

Company; and the last article of taking South Sea stock at 400?. per cent, was carried 
on and accepted by a committee of the Bank : and this example, it was hoped, by the 
managers of the South Sea affairs, would fix the price of South Sea stock at that rate; 
but they were soon convinced by tiie daily fall of the stock, that this expedient would not 
answer ; and tlio Bank quickly found, they had been prevailed upon to consent to what 
they were not able to perform, as will j»resently be seen. 

" When tlie Books were opened at tiie Bank, for taking in a subscription for the sup- 
port of public credit, the concourse of i)e()ple, who readily brought in their money, was 
at first so very great, that it was judged the whole subscription, (which was intended for 
three millions) would have been filled that very day : but it happened, that the fall of the 
South Sea stock, and the discredit of that company's bonds, occasioned a run upon the 
most eminent goldsmiths and bankers, some of whom having lent out great sums upon 
South Sea stock, and other public securities, were obliged to shut up their shops and 
abscond. The Sword Blade Company (who hitherto had been the chief cash-keepers of 
the South Sea Company) being almost drained of their ready money, were forced to stop 
payment, and set up at their office written bills, giving notice, ' That they would pay 

* any part of their notes in South Sea stock at 400Z. per cent, or pay part in cash on the 

* Monday following, and give five per cent, interest on the rest till paid ; and that they 
would take their own notes-in payment of the monies they had lent.' This, being looked 
upon as a kind of Bankruptcy, increased the public calamity, and occasioned a great run 
upon the Bank, who were obliged to pay out money faster than they received it upon the 
subscription. But the festival of Michaelmas, on which the Bank was shut of course, 
gave it some breathing time. 

" In the mean time. South Sea Stock continued sinking till Michaelmas-Day, when it 
was about 150, at which price it was on the 2d of February, the day after the House of 
Commons accepted the Proposals of the South Sea Company, whose low credit appeared 
yet more plainly, in that their bonds, payable on Michaelmas 1721, were now at above 
251. per cent, discount. 

" Pursuant to a former liesolution for relieving the last subscribers, a general court 
was held the 30th of September, wherein, after the agreement with the Bank was ratified, 
it was resolved that the proprietors of the redeemable debts, taken in on the last sub- 
scriptions, should be allowed, for their several interests in the funds, the same terms, in 
all respects, as the Bank ; and that the last subscription of the Long Annuities should be 
valued at 32 years' purchase; and of the Short at 47 years' purchase; 1 to be paid for in 
stock at 400 per cent, and be entitled to the last Midsummer dividend : And that all the 
Annuitants should be allowed the interest of their annuities to the 29th of September. 
It was also agreed, that the third subscription, which was taken at 1000 per cent, should 
be reduced to 400 per cent, and the subscription receipts given out accordingly. That 
the 100 per cent, already paid, should be taken in part of the payment; and that the 
remaining 300 per cent, should be paid in nine payments, whereof the next three pay- 

1 " It may not be Improper to insert here an Ac- Second subscription .... 18,750 

count of the Long and Short Annuities, subscribed Unsubscribed 14,118 

or unsubscribed, ' 

£. 8. d. Lottery Annuities, ITia .... 46,260 6 1 

Long Annuities, per ann. - - - . 666,821 3 3 

First subscription . - - . - 15,918 4 

First subscription 427,340 18 9 Second subscription .... 14,906 6 

Second subscription .... 125,392 17 6 Unsubscribed 15,365 16 1 

Unsubscribed 114.08V 12 ■ 

HZ Redeemables 16,546,482 7 1 

Short Annuities, per ann. .... 8l,0ix) 

Subscribed 14.391,781 8 

rirst Bubscrlption 48,13:i y Unsubscribed - - - - . ?,152.694 7 1 



APPENDIX. 657 

ments to be at 40 per cent, each, and the other six payments at 30 per cent, at six 
months' distance from each other ; the first payment of 40 per cent, to be the 2d of July 
1721. It was also agreed, that the fourth subscription, which was taken at 1000 per 
cent, whereof 200 per cent, was paid down, shoukl be also reduced to 400 per cent, and 
that the remaining 200 per cent, should be paid in eight equal payments of 25 per cent, 
each, the first of which was to be the 26th of September, 1721, and the remaining pay- 
ments, at six months' distance from each other. That interest ohould be allowed to the 
company from Michaelmas, 1720, after the rate of 5 per cent, per ann. to the respective 
times of payment of the said third and fourth subscriptions : And that the 10 per cent, 
dividend at Midsummer, should be also allowed on the third and fourth subscriptions. 
That the proprietors of the receipts of all the money subscriptions, should be allowed, in 
part of their payments, the several dividends that should be made on the stock of the 
company, till their payments were completed. That five per cent, interest be allowed on 
all the company's bonds from the 29th instant till they should become due ; and that any 
of the company's bonds should be taken as money in the fourth payment of the first 
subscription, which would become due on the 14th of October. 

" These Resolutions gave no satisfaction to the Annuitants, nor put the least stop to 
the fall of the South Sea Stock. The Bank finding they were not able to stem the tide, 
without exposing the properties of their own principals and adventurers to be carried 
away and lost in the common deluge, they wisely kept themselves out of the general 
inundation, and did not care to be drowned with those they could not save. They re- 
solved to drop an agreement, which they were under no obligation to perform (had it 
been possible) and to which the South Sea had no power to compel them. On tlie 10th 
of November, the governor of the Bank reported from the Committee, appointed to treat 
wath the South Sea Company, that the transactions between the Bank and that Company 
had been laid before council, on behalf of the Bank ; and that, the Soutli Sea Company 
pressing for an answer of what had been done therein, the governor of the Bank had 
acquainted the deputy governor of the South Sea Company, that the Committee did not 
think fit, for the present, to proceed further in that affair, and had delivered to him in 
writing the following Answer. 

*' ' When the proposition was offerefl by the lords, at the meeting of the Committees of 

* both Companies, as a suitable expedient for the support of public credit, the court of 
' directors of the Bank showed their readiness to join in any measures, that might tend 
' to the service of the public. 

" ' But, some difficulties appearing to the Committee of the Bank, they have consulted 
' with their council, and they are advised, that considering the nature of this transaction, 
' it will not be safe for them to proceed upon the proposition without consent of parlia- 

* ment. However, they think it reasonable, that, in the mean time, the Committee of 
' the South Sea should give the Committee of the Bank some account of their estate, for 
' the satisfaction of their principals.' 

" About a week after, the following paper was sent to the Bank from the Lords of the 
Treasury : ' My lords desire, that the difficulties which have arisen (and upon which, 
' they say, they have consulted their own council) concerning the late agreement between 
' them and the South Sea Company, may be put in writing, and delivered to their, lord- 
' ships, as soon as possible, that their lordships may receive the opinion of tlie king's 

* council.' 

*' To this the following Answer was given : *The Court of Directors of the Bank have, 

* with the utmost deference, considered the message in writing, which your lordships 
' were pleased to send them, and they humbly apprehend, they cannot better explain 
' themselves, than they have already done, in the manner they have given to the South 

42 



C5S APPENDIX. 

* Sea Company, a copy whereof was delivered to your lordships, which contains the 

* substance of what they consulted with their council thereupon.' 

•' Tims ended the transactions between the two Companies, which (as it has been 
suggested) were carried on by the authors and promoters of them, with a design to take 
advantage of the first rumour of this supposed agreement, and draw in unwary persons, 
who desirous to retrieve their losses, were induced to buy stock at tlie price the Bank 
liad agreed to take it. Those who had countenanced and run into every part of the 
South Sea Scheme, and were consequently deeply involved, were justly suspected of 
having contrived and taken advantage of the contract, by which means great numbers of 
deluded people were undone. 

"Thus, in the space of eight months, were seen the rise, progress, and fall, of that 
mighty fabric, which, being wound up by mysterious springs to a wonderful height, had 
fixed the eyes and expectations of all Europe, but whose foundation being fraud, illusion, 
credulity and infatuation, fell to the ground, as soon as the artful management of the 
projectors was discovered. The ebb of this swoln fluctuating credit returned with greater 
violence than it flowed, and carried everything before it with that precipitation, that tlie 
application of the ministers of state, and the directors of the great companies jointly and 
separately to stop it, were ineffectual. Express after express was sent to Hanover, to 
give the king information of the state of affairs, which was so urgent, that the king set 
out for England sooner than he intended, and arrived at London the 11th of November. 

"The South Sea stock, which was 200 at the king's arrival, fell again upon the pro- 
rogation of the parliament, from the 25th of November to the 8th of December, to 135 ; but, 
on a report that the ministry had agreed with the principal directors of the South Sea, 
the Bank, and the East India Company, upon a project which would very much conduce to 
the restoration of the public credit, it rose again to 210." 



H. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF WOMAN, AS WOMAN.^ 

The following confidential communication of Sir Robert Walpole to the 
Queen of Geo. II., (1734) is taken from the Memoirs of Geo. II. by John, 
Lord Ilerve}'.^ The reader will observe that the principle indicated in the 
title of this chapter is fully recognized by Sir Robert in his frank admis- 
sions to the Queen. 

" Sir Ilobert AValpole used always to go into Norfolk twice in a year, for ten days in 
the summer and twenty in November, and generally set out for his second expedition the 
day after the King's birth-day ; he was to do so now, and therefore to take his leave this 
evening of the Queen. Between six and seven he went up to her from Lord Ilervey's 
lodgings, and stayed there nearly two hours. After inquiring much after the state of her 
health, and finding it very indifferent, he entreated her to take care of herself, and told 
her, ' Madam, your life is of such consequence to your husband, to your children, to tb.is 
country, and indeed to many other countries, that any neglect of your health is really 

1 p. 540. 2 Vol. i, p. 414. 



APPENDIX. 659 

the greatest immorality you can be guilty of: when one says these sort of things in 
general to princes, 1 know, Madam, they must sound like flattery; but consider particu- 
lar circumstances, and your Majesty will quickly find what I say to be strictly true. 
Your Majesty knows that this country is entirely in your hands — that the fondness the 
King has for you, the opinion he has of your affection, and the regard he has for your 
judgment, are the only reins by which it is possible to restrain the natural violence of 
ills temper, or to guide him to any part where he is wanted to go. Should any accident 
happen to your Majesty, who can tell into what hands he would fall — who can tell what 
would become of him, of your children, and of us all ? Some woman, your Majesty 
knows, would govern him ; for the company of men he cannot bear. Who knows what 
that woman would be ? She might be avaricious ; she might be profuse ; she might be 
ambitious ; she might, instead of extricating him out of many difficulties (like her prede- 
cessor), lead him into many, and add those of her own indiscretions to his : perhaps, 
from interested views for herself and her own children (if she happened to have any), 
or from the natural and almost universal hatred that second marriages bear to all the 
consequences of a first, she might blow up the father against the son ; irritate the son 
against the father, the brothers against one another; and might add to this the ill 
treatment and oppression of the sisters, who, with their youth and bloom worn off, with- 
out husbands, without fortunes, without friends, and without a mother, might, with all 
tlie eclat of their birth and the grandeur of their education, end their lives as much 
objects of pity as they began them objects of envy. To these divisions in the palace, the 
natural consequences would be divisions in the kingdom : and what the consequences of 
those would be, it is much more terrible to think of than difficult to foresee.' 

*' The Queen wept extremely Mobile Sir Robert was speaking to her, and then answered 
in this manner : — ' Your partiality to me, my good Sir Robert, makes you see many more 
advantages in having me, and apprehend many greater dangers from losing me, than are 
indeed the effects of the one, or than would be the consequences of the other. That the 
King would marry again, if I died, I believe is sure, and I have often advised him so to 
do ; but his good sense, and his affection for his family, would put a stop to ajy such 
attempts as you speak of in a second wife, or at least would prevent their coming to the 
height you describe ; and as for his political government, he has now such a love for you, 
and so just a value for your services, as well as such an opinion of your abilities, that, 
were I removed, everything would go on just as it does. You have saved us from many 
errors, and this very year have forced us into safety, whether we would or no, against 
our opinion and against our inclination. The King sees this, and I own it; whilst you 
have fixed yourself as strongly in favor by an obstinate and wise contradiction to your 
Prince, as ever any other minister did by the blindest and most servile compliance.' 

" Sir Robert thanked her extremely for all her goodness and kind thoughts of him : 
' But you know, Madam, (said he) I can do notliing without you; whatever my industry 
and watchfulness for your interest and welfare suggest, it is you must execute : you, 
Madam, are the sole mover of this Court; whenever your hand stops, everything must 
stand still, and, whenever that spring is changed, the whole system and every inferior 
wheel must be changed too. If I can boast of any success in carrying on the King's' 
aflnirs, it is a success, I am very free to own, I never could have had but by the media- 
tion of your Majesty; for if I have had the merit of giving any good advice to the King, 
ii!l tbe merit of making him take it. Madam, is entirely your own; and so much so that 
I not only never did do anything without you, but I know I never could; and if this 
country have the misfortune to lose your Majesty, I should find it as impossible divested 
ot your assistance, to persuade the King into any measure he did not like, as, whilst we 
liave the happmess ot possessing your Majesty, any minister would find it to persuade 
hiai iuto a step which you did not approve.' " 



6G0 APPENDIX. 

These are sturtliiig confessions for a statesman of a great nation to 
make. The Queen adopts and follows his counsel, and influences the King, 
not because it is the judgment of the minister, — but because it is trans- 
mitted by the woman he professes to love. The medium of communication 
is made paramount to principle — thus constantly endangering the great 
interests of state by the chance emplo3'ment of irresponsible or disreputa- 
ble agents of royal favor. It is possible that in admitting so much, Wal- 
pole saw the means of his continuance in power. Whatever may have 
been his motives, in such extreme concessions, it is quite certain that he 
furnished no evidence that royalty itself afforded any security to the 
people. 



EARLY SETTLEMENT OF CONNECTICUT. CHARACTER OF THE SETTLERS. 

The author is indebted to a distinguished gentleman of Connecticut for 
the following statements, extracts taken from a letter. They are inserted 
that the subject may receive further attention, and the truths of history' 
be established. 

" The Connecticut Colony was commenced at Windsor and Hartford in 1634-5, hy 
Ilaynes, Hooker and their associates. The settlement at Quinnipiac, or New Haven, was 
commenced some four or five years later." * * * 

"The two colonies had different origins and founders and entirely distinct govern- 
ments, for about a quarter of a century, when Winthrop, in 1662, procured the charter 
which consolidated them, and annexed Quinnipiac to Connecticut, much against the will 
and wishes of many of the prominent men in the Quinnipiac colony. 

" This is partly explained in a note (of this book) on page 277. The towns on the 
Connecticut were not under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts until 1639, although the 
latter state assumed that the emigrants, if they left, must continue her jurisdiction. But 
Connecticut did not acknowledge, or acquiesce in the assumption, but held their own 
courts, enacted their own laws, and were wholly independent of Massachusetts. The 
records and journals of the courts, elections and appointments make no reference to 
Massachusetts, and those Connecticut records were three or four years before the settle- 
ment of Quinnipiac." * * * 

"The people of Connecticut first settled in the different places, but they assembled 
and formed their own constitution, or ordinances of civil government in January 1638-9. 
It is the first written constitution of a people, and made by the people them&elves. It 
was not a crown grant, nor proprietor's grant, nor a Massachusetts' grant, but a civil 
compact made by the people themselves for their own government. The general prin- 



1 p. 280. 



APPENDIX. 661 

ciples of the Ordinance of 1G38, were incorporated into the Charter obtained hy 
Winthrop from Charles the Second in 1662, and were embodied into the constitution 
under which we live. 

" Connecticut was from the beginning democratic. She always elected her own 
governors and magistrates, appointed her own judges, and, in all state, or colonial 
matters, acted wholly independent of the crown, to which, however, she was loyal. In 
these respects, she occupied an entirely different position from all the other colonies, 
before the Revolution, and the opposition to central aggressive powtr, which influenced 
the settlers, animates their descendants not only here, but wherever they are located. 

" Massachusetts' historians and writers have never done full justice to Connecticut. 
Even Hildreth and Bancroft are disposed to make it an appendage to Massachusetts, 
whereas, there were from the first distinctive differences in many respects, both ecclesi- 
astical ancf civil." 



INDEX 



Abimclcch, "a bold bad mnn," 531. 

Abstraction, a world of, 28S. 

Aclierlcy, Roj^cr, writiujjs of, 332. 

Acbilles, nii^e of, 35. 

Acosta, discDVi-ries of, 11. 

Adams, John, 84, 145 ; Rii^hts of Colonization, 
112; and Ourlfthorpe, 208; quoted, 309; 
ninuarchs be respected, "uo king-killer," 
332. 

Adams, Jobn Quincy,respectin2: party names, 
18; May Flower Compact, 115. 

Adams, Samuel, 84, 300; respectinfr o^overn- 
ment, 301; respectinji: British Constitu- 
tion, 319; "Fvirmers' Letters," 32'>; re- 
publicanism, 342. 

Addison, Josepb, rcspectino: political parties, 
2; description of the Tory, 19; democracy 
in En,i2:land, 77; views of party, 511; bis 
democracy, 511 ; and Steele, difference 
between, '523 ; ditrerence lamentid by Dr. 
Johnson, 523 ; Sir Robert Walpole re- 
spectins;, 523; Tory Creed, Appendix, 
617; "After-wise" party, 5. 

Administration and government, difference 
between, 314. 

AflTections, the uncertainties of in royalty, 
521 ; alienation of the, 560. 

Africa, field of conquest, 95 ; coast of, 189. 

AfLer-wise-party, spoken of by Addison, 5. 

Age, every, has its appropriate characters, 
63 ; of sin and deirradati^n, 369. 

Agriculture, knowledge of, derived by the 
Greeks from Egyptians and Phoenicians, 
94. 

Aix-la-Cbapclle, peace of, 568. 

Alexander, the irreat, 81, 134, 376. 

Alfred, of England, 134; the greatest king, 
370. 

Algiers, galley slaves' prison at, 6. 

Allen, Samuel, governor, 203. 

Allen, William, '* What is democracy ?" 22. 

All things double, quotation from Bible, 1. 

Ambition, and incapacity, 522. 

America, discovery of, 96; Columbus, 111; 
Continent of, 144. 

American Colonies, 87; Colonists, 119; growth 
of, 159; education of, 293. 

American Revolution, 248 ; inspired new 
hopes, 336; study of, 345; causes of, 612; 
history of, 615. 



Americans, disobedient spirit of, 293, rebels, 
list of, 328; prepared for freedom, 344. 

Ammonites, i)ropheeies against, 5. 

Amyrault, Moses, Preceptor of Wm. Penn, 
233. 

Anarchy, fruit of ignorance, 25. 

Andros, Sir Edmund, 202, 277, 285. 

Angels, rebellious, 5. 

Anuclo, 13. 

Anglo-Saxons, and the Cross, 82. 

Animals, of tlie tardigrade family, 558. 

Animalcula, invisible to the e\e, 288. 

Anne, Que. n, 441; aire, capacity jmd prejudi- 
ces, 442; church tory, 442; jiarty jirejudi- 
ces, 443; sense of decorum, 4 13; anecdote 
of, 443; "entirely English," 443; interfer- 
ence witk elections, 444; tory appoint- 
ments, 445; second mariiage pn^posed to, 
447; reverence for tlie church, 455; coun- 
sellors, 455; respecting dear " Mrs. Free- 
man," 469; Queen Sarah, 471; questions 
discussed, 497;"Mrs.Morlcy," 500; sour- 
ces of her troubles, 503; death of, ended 
the Stuart Line, 504; Buckle's view of, 
501; relieved by death, 505; reiirn of, re- 
view, 505; seventeen times pregnant, 583. 

Ante-Columl)ian discoveries, 96. 

Antinomian controversy, 161. 

Arabian scholarship, 134. 

Arago, curious fact stated by, 6. 

Archimedes, 83. 

Arirylc, duke of, in council, 510. 

Aristoci-acy, element of, 200. 

Aristotle, saying of, 35 ; human progress, 
239; quoted, 317; respecting monarchy, 
324; w^oman, 483. 

Arch-bishop of Canterbury, 383. 

Arkwright, knowledge of, 1. 

Army, of Cromwell, 58; standinir, dansrerous, 
i()6; commander of, diflieuliies, 501; mo- 
tion to reduce, 548; extent of the British, 
548. 

Aspasia, her character, 482. 

Association, for aiding Wm. of Orange, 421. 

Astronomer, an undevout, 85. 

Astronomy, in China, 288. 

Athens, ])eople of, 35, 37. 

Athenians, how ruled, 483. 

AtterWury, bishop of, leader of Jacobites, 
529. 

Austiia, peo]de of, not free, 41. 

Author of this work, his aim and end, 73. 



6G3 



664 



INDEX. 



Anthonty, fixed boundaries of, 293. 
Auxilliary, Whigs uud Tories, 528. 



B 



Babes, spirit of, 3. 

Bacon, Lord, pioneer of knowledge, 89, 4G1, 
nuptial love, 488. 

Banerolt, George, quoted, 60, 166, 174, 176, 
192 201, 202, 220, 221, 223, 224, 227, 231, 
234', 236, 238, 244, 248, 262, 276, 279, 282, 
332. 

Barbarism, its meaning, 53. 

Baltimore, Lord, 219, and Wm. Penn, 231. 

Barclay, popular power, 239, quoted, 242. 

Barnard, Sir John, against mililary rule, 550. 

Barillon, letters of, 380, 381, at tlie palace, 
383, minister of Louis XIV, letters, 
405. 

Baptists, Independents, Presbyterians, 243. 

Bane, Col. Isaac, Lord Nortli rebulied, 21, 
77. 

Barstow, Hist, of N. H., quoted, 202. 

Baxter, Riclinrd, worlds of, 57, Bunyan and 
Howe, 405, under trial, 407, defence, 407, 
insulted by Jeffreys, 407. 

Bathurst, Lord, defends freedom against 
sumptuary laws, 550. 

Beasts and Birds, instincts of, 312. 

Beauty, domain of, 479. 

Beethoven, 13. 

Belgic sires, sons of, 201. 

Bell, Sir Charles, respecting the Sloth, 550. 

Benedictines, of Italy, 82. 

Benevolence, parsimonious, 217. 

Berkley, Lord, 201, 235. 

Bible Societies, 9. 

Bible, respecting parties, 1, 4 ; quoted, 23, 24 
42; democracy of, 83; in Russia, 84, 118 
Colonization, 95; above Parliament, 110 
town governments, 124; laws of, 140 
government of Puritans, 140; Christi- 
anity, 240 ; respecting kings, 309 ; against 
monarchy, 333,-4. 

Bigotry, nature of, 161. 

Bill of Rights, 439. 

Biography, in two words, 127. 

Birch, Col. M. P., on Exclusion Bill, 392. 

♦' Birds of a feather, flock together," 369. 

Birmingham, Club of, 619. 

Bishop of London, threatens Wm. Penn, 233 ; 
Dissenters, 445. 

Bishop Burnet, respecting the Quakers, 241; 
in Holland, 420. 

Bishops, trial of, 417. 

Blaekstone, Ftudied in America, 293. 

Bodin, against knowledge in a king, 460. 

Boetie, democracy of, p. 49. 

Bolinirbroke, spirit of liberty. 25; quoted, 159, 
315; Whig and Tory, 385; inlluence of, 
444; young and ambitious;, 446; as an ad- 
viser, 456; and Harley, 503; and Oxford, 
510; a Deist, 513; announces the death of 
the Tory ])arty, 526; respecting political 
parties, 527; employs women, 527; not 
easily discouraged, 528 ; his lament, 528; 
his death, 579; character, 584. 

Bradford, Gov., his property, 127. 

Bradlaugh, Charles, republicanism of, 75. 

" Brave before God, coward before man," 
(from Montaitrne,) 382. 

Bramble, chosen King, 531. 

Bread, a patent for making, 99. 

Breda, declaration from, 360. 



Boone, Daniel, 90. 

Boston, date of settlement, 277. 

Botta, quoted, 299. 

Bozman, quoted, 220, 221, 226. 

Brewster, William, and others, 142. 

Bribery, shameless, 379, 386; bill against, 
5J5. 

Britain, "an island fertile in usurpers," 55. 

British Constitution, glory of, 300, 318; con- 
ventiouiil, 318; Hallam, respecting, 319; 
Samuel Adams, respecting, 319; glory of, 
320; democraey of, 320; Bolingbroke, 
respecting, 320, '21 ; growth of, 321; de- 
rided, 322; What it is. 322: and republi- 
canism, 343; experience of England, 346; 
govern luei it controversies, 281. 

British realm, limits of, 298. 

Britons, A. D., 36, 54. 

" Broad -bottomed administration," 579. 

Brooklyn, 188. 

Brouiiham, Lord, soldier and schoolmaster, 
24; colonial affairs, 95; quoted, 124, 308, 
310, 312 ; monarchy, 325. 

Brotherly love, in government, 231. 

Brunswick, house of, and the Whi^s, 605. 

Bubbles, time of Geo. L, 14; list of, 525, 643; 
lines respecting, 646. 

Buchanan, George, birth and character, 57, 
77. 

Buckle, Thomas, quoted, 308, 310; Prince of 
Orange, 429 ; Queen Anue, 504. 

Budhism, 13. 

Burgoyne, Gen., to Pitt, 614. 

Burke, Edmund, quoted, 4 ; and Fox, breach 
between, 4; Lord North, 20, 77; quoted, 
293, 303; against politics in the pulpit, 
365; republics, 339; "interior cabinet," 
593 

Burns, ilobert, land of, 203. 

Burton, Robert, Parties, 6; what he saw to 
laugh at, 488. 

Business, basis of, — 3. 

Bute, Earl of, why appointed, 594 ; Pitt and 
the King, 599; person and character, 600; 
anecdote of 600, 603; lofty ignorance, 
600; hated, 601; caricatured, 601; des- 
perate cabal of, 601; admirers of, 602; 
praised by Smollett, 602; his appoint- 
ments, 605; resignation of, 606; and 
Pitt, 607, 608. 

Butts, Isaac, of N. Y., quoted, 303. 

Byllinge, Edward, 235. 

Byron, Lord, self-denial of, 461. 



Cabal, history of, 368. 

Calef, Dr. John, 290. 

Calvert, Cecilius, 219. 

Calvert, Charles, 228 ; family and Maryland, 

220 ; Sir George, Catholic statesman, 220, 

222; Geo. H., quoted, 311. 
Calvin, John, 240. 

Calvinism, exiles from the seats of, 98. 
Cambridge, Mass., date of settlement. 277. 
Camden, Lord, 77; wisdom of, 572. 
Canning, on sedition, 338. 
Canute, commands the sea, 54. 
Cape Cod, 143. 

Capell, Lord, and Charles I., 348. 
Carolina, divided, 187. 
Carolinas, people of, 188. 
Carteret, Sir Geo., 201, 235. 
Carthaginians, Colonies of, 95. 



INDEX. 



665 



Cartwriffht, British Constitution, 319. 

Cass, Lewis Jr., Rome, 84. 

Catholicism and Protestantism, 225 ; in Eng- 
land, 862; and democracy, 421. 

"Cato," sii^nature of Dr. Smith, oo2. 

Cattell, Ch. C, republicanism of, 75; quoted, 
619. 

Caucus, its use and abuse, 514. 

Cause and effect, in political philosophy, 
569. 

Cavalier, and Puritan, in S. C, 183. 

Cavaliers, alarmed, 366. 

Caesar, litlleness of, 43; conquers Briton, 
55. 

Celestial Empire, ignorance of, 120; hemis- 
phere, phenomena of, 288. 

Central power, will of, 316. 

Century, the events of a, 108. 

Centuries, grand results of, 377. 

Chalmers, monarchy, 73; quoted, 176, 188, 
220, 222; a Tory, 264; quoted, 437. 

Charlemiigne, reign of, 48, 82. 

Charles I., death warrant of, 59; respecting, 
176, 178, 207, 228, 229; declaration of, 

Charles II., 189, 207, 221, 228, 229; made 
king, 356; character, 356; and Cromwell, 
compared, 357; popular, 357; a protli- 
gate, 358; base habits of, 359, 366 ; , hated 
business, 359; false to promises, 360; 
ready to trade, 361; how surrounded, 
362; at Whitehall, 366; last parliament of, 
372 ; criminality of, 376 ; degradation of, 
378; bribery, 379; relations with parlia- 
ment, 380; with Louis XIV., 378; ceased 
to be merry, 382; life and death, 383; death- 
bed scene, 382, '3; a Catholic, 383; con- 
tempt for divine things, 383 ; guilt of, 
and Priest at back door, 384; rumored 
causes of his death, 384; reign of, 
reviewed, 385, 393; tory reign of, 386; 
respecting Mary's marriage, 420; Wm. 
Penn, 231, 233; commissioners of, 283. 

Character, formation of, 121. 

Charity, great experiment of, 206; true, 262. 

Charter, to Mass. 1628, 123; of Libertii's, 
N. Y., 201; of Conn, demanded, 285; 
hidden 286. 

Charter governments, 152; of N. E., 277. 

Charters, new and amended, 271. 

Chatham. Lord, respecting parties, 15; Geo. 
Buchanan, 57; fall-up-stairs. 74, 77; did 
not see greatness of America, 461 ; 
quoted, 462; legacy to, 491; called Ujjon 
by Fox, 580 ; only conditions of service, 
581; character by Cooke, 582; Cooke's 
opinions reviewed, 582; man of genius 
and a democrat, 583; relations with Bute, 
603; character, 603; appointment and 
resignation. 603, 601; and the king, 607,'9, 
610; nothing impossible to, 614; devoted 
wife of, 614; great inftueuce of, 614; 
where best known. 614. 

Chesterfield, Earl of, 206. 

Chevalier, Madame, origin and character, 
485. 

Child, Sir Josiah, M. P., subject of Interest, 
553. 

Children, taught to be parti^^ans, 2, 3. 

China, relii^ion of, 7; 2000 years ago, 30; 
study of, 32; Emperctrs of, and Deitv, 
82; vessels of, 288; government of, 310, 
313; writinus of Confucius. 312; Em- 
peror and Ministers, 315. 



Christian rule, 309. 

Christian theory, and anti-Christian practice, 
556. 

Christianity, doctrines of, 6; blessings of, 9; 
a revolution, 45; leaders of. 79; sublime 
requisitions of, 95; in Georgia. 212; 
extension of, 223; teachings of, 292. 

Church, divided, 308; recognition of, 322; 
and state, 331 ; detached from stat(^ 3<)2 ; 
in confusion, 363; and the crov,n, 371, 
403: the laity, 371; Infallibility of, 412; 
fears and prayei-« of, 414; favored by the 
Tories, 414; outrage upon, 417; perils 
of, 512; dependence of, 530 ; aud royalty 
saved by democracy, 585. ! 

"Church Party," 443. 

"Church in danger," cry of, p. 446, 555, 

Cicero, death of, 42; religion, 80; love of 
glory, 461. 

Ciphers, " great many to follow," 348, power 
of, 533. 

Circumstances, combination of, 532. 

Cities, large, democratic, p. 394. 

Civil power, sources of. 168; defined, 279. 

Civilization, impulses, 97; irerms of, 288. 

Clarendon, Lord, quoted, 360; character of, 
363; impeachment of, 367. 

Clarkson, Life of Penn, 235. 

Clayborne, Capt. Wm., 219. 

Clergy, in the dark ages, 83; power lessened, 
365; made war ou schism, 366; and roy- 
alty, 433. 

Clubs, political, in England, 336, 

Cobbler, drunken, for the church, 2. 

Coalition, unholy, 205; political, fate of , 576, 
578. 

Gobden, Richard, quoted, 623. 

Coddington, William, 278, 

Codrus^ obscure age of, 288, 

Coercion, theory of, favored by James IL, 
406, 

Colonial events, survey of, 162. 

Colonial governments, 151, 

Colonial policy, continental, 281. 

Colonial success, sources of, 17L 

Colonies, ancient and modern, 92; N. Amer- 
ica, 95 ; origin, 96, 101 ; general survey 
of, 109 ; diites of settlement, 151; foreii:n 
control of, 165; defence of, 281 ; politi- 
cal importance of, 286 ; independence of, 
343; government of, 338, 

Colonists, working men, 120; habits of, 120 ; 
hard terms, 129 ; true to their Charters, 
130; austerity of, 130; religionists, 281; 
servants of God, 282; respecting monar- 
chy, 331; pride of, 343, 

Colonization, principles of, 88. 

Columl)us, spirit of. 83, 89, 93; preceded by 
the Northmen, 291, 

Combe, George, quoted, 293, 

Commi«;sioners appointed by the King, 283; 
resisted, 284. 

Coraraodus, his ambition, 42. 

Commons, zealous for rovalty. 364, 

Common sense, rare quality, 114, 

Commonwealth, of Cromwell, 328, 347. 

Compact, of the Mayflower, 113; siirnatures, 

114; J. Q. Adams, respecting, 115. 
Corapton, Sir Spencer, 539; aud Walpole, as 

competitors, 539. 
Conditions and Concessions, of Wm. Penn, 

245, 
Condorcet. a democrat from philo90T>h3'^, 22. 
Conformists, aud nou-conformists, 433. 



(}e(y 



INDEX. 



Confucius, tcachinijs of, 8; wnUnsrs, 312. 

CounceiicMit, territory of, 277; eliarter of, 
277, 270; f;itbers of, 270; early settle- 
nu'ut of, 060. 

Conscience, terrors of, 383. 

Conservalive i)riiK'iple, 159. 

Cousliiution, ancient. 60 ; British, 300 ; and 
tlie trovernmeut, 316; written or conven- 
tional, 318. 

Consolidation, fears of, 270. 

Contest, for the greatest liberty, 117. 

Conventional conflict, and action, 297. 

Coode, John, 229. 

Cooke, Geo. VVino;rove, Hist, of Party, 363,- 
'5, '7; quoted, 373, 387; parties, 385; 
quoted, 416, 436, 437, 442. 453; his char- 
acter of Pitt reviewed, 582, 584. 

Cooper, Peter, quoted, 340. 

Copenhaffen house, meeting at, 338. 

Copernicus, heresy of, 10. 

Coplev, Sir Lionel, 219. 

Corioianns, Cains Marcius, 483, 630, 

Cortez, found parties iu Mexico, 5; spirit of, 
83. 

Council of Safety, 277. 

Counsel, stai)ilily of, 202. 

Country, true love of, 16. 

Courts of High Commission, 157, 405. 

Courts, rival, of royalty, 566. 

Covenanters, honest faith of, 203. 

Coventry, Sir John, maimed, 370. 

Cowley, respecting Cromwell, d^. 

Cowper. 77. 

Coxe, Wm., quoted, 455, 456, 459,465, 467. 

Cran field, Gov. N. II., 205. 

Creeds and cliques, 3. 

Cromw. 11, Oliver, Proteotornte of, 57; early 
services of, forbidden to emigrate, 58; 
Ills officers and bones, 58, 59; hypocrisy 
of, 65, 357; his part, 77; rebellion of, 
103; and Charles 1., 178, 180; and VVheel- 
ri_^ht, 204, 242; governmentof theS.iints, 
30~S; respecting monarchy, and Mass., 
330, 331 ; a revolutionist, 348 ; no f ^iend^ 
hut agents, 348; moved hy God, 348; a 
meddler, 348; clo-ing parliament, ^348, 
assuming a title, 348 ; protector, 349 ; 
*' an usurper," 349; a traitor, 350; false 
to his own tlieory, 350; Pope's line upon, 
3.50; prejudices against, 350; familiar 
liabits of, 351 ; in constant fear, 351 ; 
false to his wife, 351 ; ceremony of, 351; 
fasts and prayers, 352; superstitions, 
352; against fnedom of the i)ress, 353; 
secrecy of, 353; did n<>t trust in God, 
353; doubted evewthinir, 353; deserted 
hy early friends, 351; not a philosopher, 
356;— Richard, p. 354. 

Crown, increased jealousy of, 286 ; account- 
anility of, 322; made elective, 434. 

Crusades, of different dates. 83. 

Culpepper, Gov., of Va., 181. 

Cushman, Robert, sermon of, 121. 

Cuvier, Barou, philosophy of, 120. 



Dalrvmple, Sir John, quoted, 352, 3T0, 372, 

37t;. 421. 
D'Aubigiie. quoted, 3. 
l),iiil)v. Earl of, infamous course of, 301. 
Daniel, the prophet, 241. 
Darius, King, discussion before, 485. 
Dashwood, Sir Francis, stupidity of, 003. 



Davcnant, Sir Wm., afld Md., 230. 

Davis' History of China, 8. 

Davis, Isaac, respecting Roger Williams, ICO. 

Debtors, in prison, 208. 

Declaration of Rights, Mass., 331. 

Declaration of Riii:tit, 305, 425, 432,441. 

Defeat, means of success, 20. 

Death, declared " an eternal sleep," 50. 

Deity, idea of, 8; centre of all tribes and 
nations, 81; attributes of, 310; wisdou[i 
of, 311. 

Delaware, State of, 244. 

Delphian Oracle, 81. 

Democracy, maxim of, 16; history of, 17; 
meaning and power of the word, 21 ; 
mission of, 22 ; under all forms of 
government, 22; champion of, 22; 
defined by Gov. Allen. 22; defined in 
3d century, 22; maxims of, 24; a 
permanent element of progress, 25; 
Kings and Emperors, its servai-sts, 25; 
dependent on knowledge, 26; in France, 
21: in 16th century, 49; pyramid of, 73; 
proud records of, in England, 77 ; Addi- 
son, respecting, 77; sacred feature of, 
78; basis of, 80; of the Bible, 83; tri- 
umphs of, 86; favored by Catholic and 
Protestant, 102; in Parliament, 104; no 
new system, 116; standard of, 117; bless- 
ings of, 118; results of, 200; recouuized 
by royalty, 222; in Maryland, 2;i0 ; and 
papacy in America, 231; illustrated ity 
a Quaker, 231 ; progress of, in N. E., 
278; heart of, in N. E.,278; iiovern.nent 
of, iu R. l.,278; in Conn., vigd mce of, 
280; and its combination's, 290; not 
chaos, 292; idolatry of, 296; treachery 
to, 296; and toryism, 314; opponents of, 
in Am., 320; defenders rf, 339; same 
everywhere, 345 ; representatives of, 373 ; 
concession to, 427; splendid triumphs of, 
439, 529; compliment to, 441 ; not parti 
zanship, 454; and woman, 490; unchange- 
able, 512; superior to monarchy, 530; 
superior to toryism, 531 ; always tri- 
umphs, 513; decency of, 523; practical 
period of, 595; and torvism never mix, 
608; <j:ifted spirits of, 612. 

Democratic Party, principles of, 21; dead, 
414 ; statesmen of, 415. 

Democrats, of England, 77; of England and 
Holland, 193, '4; of America, not favora- 
ble to a monarchy, 333; and Tories, 
difference, 335; majority in commons, 
423; nothinsr to alter, 425; selected as 
advisers by William of Orange, 434; and 
Tories, representative men, 542. 

De Lolme, quoted, resi)ecting Puritans, 109; 
quoted, 307, 317, 319. 

Desi)otisin, obliged " to truck and huckster," 
294. 

De Tocqueville, on democracy, 27; his "De- 
mocracy in America," 28; France, 47; 
quoted, 124. 329. 

Devonshire, duke of, Septennial bill, 516; 
removed, 605. 

Devonshire paper, recitals of. 426. 

Diamonds, box of, as a bribe, 386, 

Dickinson, John, on monaiChy, 325; Botta, 
respectinir, 328. 

D'lsraeli. referred to, 622. 

Didius, Julianus, bouaht Rome, 43. 

Dilke, Sir Charles, and reform, 75; quoted, 
621. 



INDEX. 



667 



Dinwiddie. Gov., 182. 

Discretion of a judt^e, law of tyrants, 572. 

Dissection, denounced, 11. 

Dissenters, laws ay;ainsl, 242; watched, 405; 
actini^ toi::ether, 412; persecuted by 
Tories. 444; danjrerous to Church and 
State. 445; not political partizaus, 555. 

Distress, caused by monopolies, 99. 

Donatello. 13. 

Don^an, Gov. of N. Y., 201. 

Dorchester, [Mass.] Georji:ia, 214; and S. C, 
214 ; date of settlement, 277. 

Dorr, Gov., of R. I., 160. 

Dresses, business of renting, 480. 

Druids, groves of, 55. 

Drummer, Jer., defence of, 281. 

"Drum, drum, I say," Conn, command, 285. 

Duchess, of Portsmoutli, '6S'd ; of Cleveland, 
383 

Duke of York, 189; ajrents, 231, 235. 

Duke of Sussex, remarks of, 73. 

Dunkards, non resistants, 248. 

Dunkirk, sale of, 367. 

Dumas, respectinir French revolution, 51. 

Dunces, consolation of, 460. 

Duiharn, Lord Bisliop of, 136. 

Diiuliip, quoted, 202. 

Dutch, West India Co., 189, 200, popular free- 
dom of, 193; repuhlicans 200; in Penn., 
231; conser\ative, 188. 

Dutv, pride of, 120; courage of, 121; political 
relations of, 298. 

Dyckvelt, iu England, 420; character of, 420. 

E 

Earth, products of, 137; has its own record, 288. 

Ecclesiastical Commission, members of, 419. 

Education, duties of, 29; popular, 131; and 
state sovereignty, 133; errors respecting;, 
133; in France and China, 134; in Russiit, 
134; indifferent countries, 135; and democ- 
racy, 140 : necessary to citizenship, 295, 

Effingham, Earl of, 77. 

Eirypt, study of, 32. 

Egyptians, and the gods, 81; and their colo- 
nies, 92. 

Elections, fraud in, 402. 

Electricity, 90. 

Eliot, Joim, apostle of the Indians, 283. 

Etnpire, rudiments of, 573. 

Empire State, broad basis of, 200; Appendix. 
633. 

Encore, Charlotte, 484. 

England, democracy in 26; locality and early 
period of, 53; mission of, 54; ruled by 
foreign power, 54; "a cock pit," 51; 
domestic wars of, 57; republicanism in, 
75; democrats of, 77; national wants, 108; 
time of Alfred, 134; revolution of, 148; 
not free till after 1688, 293 ; as viewed by 
the French, 300; royal pedigree of, 326; 
fearful crisis of, 336; political periods 
of, 344; from Cromwell to Geo. III., 345; 
and America, 346; lilterty in, 370; great 
events of reviewed, 376; and France, rela- 
tions, 400, 439; grand periods of, 427; 
be<raa to rea'lize her parts 438; female 
sutfiasre in, 477; commercial greatness of, 
595, public debt of. 595; interesting period 
of, 612; Pensions and annuities, 622; 
reprcsentntion in, 619, 621. 

English free thinkers in j)Olitics, 2. 

English clergy, monarchists, 331. 



Enthusiasm of patriotism, 565. 

Epaniinondas, self-denial of, 127. 

Ephrata, convent at, 248. 

Ei)iscopacy, and Papacy, 97; proscribed, 165; 
in N. E. impossible, 282; new life to, 365; 

Equal rights, conditions of, 136; best com- 
menced in poverty, 126; glory of, 140. 

Equity, insured by law, 4. 

Era, of sin and degradation, 369. 

Eiasmus, and Luther, times of, 24. 

Ethridge and Wycherley, ribaldry of, 366. 

Erskine, 77. 

Europe, commotions of, 164; conditions of, 
378 ; peace of, 457. 

Evelyn, quoted, 366. 

" Examiner," Whig Journal, 448. 

Exclusion Bill, 243 390, 391, 392. 

Exclusionists, remembered, 398, 403. 

Eurystheus, a Kmg of Argos, 463. 

Expeditions of discovery, 13. 

External objects, influence of, 121. 

Ezekiel, visions of, 5. 



Fabius Maximus, 482. 

Fable of the Trees, Lesson of, 531. 

''Fact, stranger than fiction," 139; without 
roots, 317; important facts in history, 390; 
singular one of the times, 512. 

Factions, numerous, 98. 

Faculties, commonwealth of, 287. 

Fanaticism, period of 61. 374, 

Fanatic, never doubts, 352. 

Fairholme, quoted, 285. 

Faith, without practice, dead, 361. 

Fanning, the unlearned, 188. 

Farmer and nature, 137. 

Farmer's Letters, 327. 

Fashion, rule and pleasures of, 480. 

"Favorite," of the Court, 599; described by 
Shakespeare, 599. 

Favoritism, its results, 606. 

Fearful instrument of adjustment, 77. 

Federal Party, 18. 

Fenelon, quoted, 305. 

Fenwicke, John, 235. 

Feudalism, in Britain, 55; rights and institu- 
tions of, 540. 

"Fifth monarchy men," 61. 

Filbert tree, and the mill-stone, 316. ' 

Filmer, on monarchy, 325; toryism of, 366; 
theory of applied, 38. 

Fine arts, how advanced, 13. ^ 

Finch, Lord, could fight for Steele, but could 
not speak, 453; speech of, 453. 

"Five Mile Act." 243. 

Fleming, quoted, 312. 

Fletcher, Col., Gov. of N. Y., 283 

Foley, auditor, cant of, 450. 

Foot-ball, and Cromwell, 204. 

Force, abhorrent to nature, 307. 

Fox, C. J. and Burke, breach between, 4; es- 
timate of Pitt, the younger, 21, 77; quoted, 
337; reception of by Pitt, 580; 
George, and the Pope, 239; doctrine of, 241. 

Formation of Parties, 4. 

France, democracy in, 26; during 700 years, 
28 ; people of not free, 41 ; history of, 46 ; 
future of, .52; condition of, 126; revolu- 
tion in, 1848, 292; independent but not 
free, 293 ; social peace of, 295 ; revolutions, 
295 ; hostility to — a party sentiment, 335; 
republicanism in, 342 ; and England, rela- 



C68 



INDEX. 



lions between, 379, 380, 386; war against, 
456; hostility to, 498. 

Frauklii^ Beiijuinin, influence of, 2; parties, 
15, 84 ; pioneer of kuowled,«<c, 89, 90 ; re- 
view of P('nn.,2<)7; democracy of, 267; 
quoted, 2T4; and science, 291; anecdote 
of, olo; vanity, 461; letter of, 612; calls 
for candles, 6i2. 

Freaison, Jolin, quoted, 620. 

Freedom, pedigree of, 162; settlements of, 
170; popular— derived from the Dutch, 
193; with or without Gin, 550; cannot 
come from slavery, 550. 

Free discussion, forbidden, 190. 

Free inquiry, universality of, 317. 

Freeman, Mrs., assumed name of the Duchess 
of Marlboro', 500. 

Freeholder, quotations from. 2, 5. 

Freedom of the press, 72. 

Freedoms and Exemptions, 195. 

Free Society of Traders, 247. 

Free speech, checked by royalty, 416. 

Frederic, Prince of Wales, sad case, 558; op- 
posed by father and mother, 558; charac- 
ter, 559; a " change1ins>:," 562; dying 
mother refused to see him, 562; death of, 
lines respecting, 564 ; alienated by tories, 
566; effects of his death on parties, 568. 

French Constitution, revision of, 326. 

French, North New Netherland, 199. 

French Revolution, 4; Lamartine, 50; bless- 
in ics of, 50 ; how regarded by parties, 
335. 

Froude, quoted, 3, 24, 79, 311. 

♦'Fruits of Solitude," 250. 

Fulton, knowledge of, 1. 

Fundamentals, the general, 146. 

Future, mercifully hidden from man, 613. 

Qt 

Galileo, the astronomer, 10. 

Game Laws, of England, 620. 

Genius, rivalry of, 13; ri<:hls of, 356. 

Geographical line, from pole to pole, 94. 

Geology, knowledjre of, 288. 

Geortre I., welcomed by the people, 506; but 
little opposed, 506 ; birth and edu<*ation, 
507; marriage and separation, 507, 508; 
early character, 508; summoned by his 
wife before the bar of God, 508; clever 
sayinirs of, 509; uncertainties of, 509; 
mistresses of, 508; ])olicy one of self de- 
fence, 515; and the Prince of Wales, 521; 
speculative age of, 524; "governed by 
bad Latiu," 529; reign of, teachings, 529; 
death of, 530. 

George II. ascends the throne, 530; longreis'n 
of, 5o0, 540; monarch by birth, 532; ]»er- 
gon and character, 533. littleness of, .533; 
governed by his queen, 534; iirnorant of 
politics, 534; domestic life of, 535; singu- 
lar defects and incapacity of, 536; queen 
I of, 536, friend to learning, euloirized by 
I Dr. Clarke, 536; mistrusted himself, 538; 
first interview with Walpole, 538 ; idea of 
])olitical strength. 543; his aire one of cor- 
ruption, 545; and Queen, unnatural con- 
duct of, 558; with his dying qneen, 564; 
would take another mistress, 564; account 
of by Tliackeray, 564; painful domestic 
scenes of, 565; cqujil to a pawnbroker, 
573; sends for Pitt, 580 ; impracticable con- 
ditions of 580 '1: his achievenicnts, 585 ; 



errors of, 598; his Queen and Walpole, 658. 

George III., hidignity to, 334; who was he? 
348; and Lord Marlboro', 503; projatious 
period, 586; character by Thackeray, 586; 
new policy of, 587; resolved to be more 
than king, 587; inexperience of, .587; his 
"own unadvised minister," 587; very 
honest, 588; tutors of, 588; anecdote of, 
588; German Grammar, 588; only lit to 
read his Bible to his mother, .589; early 
loves, 590; choice of a wife, 590; was he 
a leader of party ? .591 ; " George be king," 
words of his mother, 592; born in Eng- 
land, 592; Interior Cabinet of, 593, 599; 
respecting Lord Ctimden, 593; and the 
Tory Party, 597 ; errors of, 598 ; led by his 
mother, 598: dangerous policy of, 598; 
choice of men, 603; interview with Pitt, 
609; sole trust of, 613 ;.his reign, how far 
to be noticed, 615. 

Georgia, colony of, 206 ; singular origin of, 
206; settled by exiles, 206; acts of Par- 
liament respecting, 206; objects of the 
colony, 206 ; charter of, 206, '9 ; provisions 
of, 210; lines respecting, 210; political 
foundation of, 211 ; three classes of set- 
tlers, 212; projected industry of, 212; 
paupers of England, 213. 

Germany, democracy in, 78. 

Gibbon quoted, 7; on democracy, 20. 

Gideon, of Manasseh, 531; Drumah, 531 ; line 
of, unprotected, 531. 

Gladiators, described, 42. 

Gluck, 13. 

God, wisdom of, 5; devotion to, 12; rule of 
in all ages, 80; King above royalty, 110; 
discovers himself to every man, 240; will 
sof, will of man, 301 ; works of, 370. 

"God is love," maxim of Wm. Penn., 234. 

Gods, mythological, divided, 5. 

Goethe, "The girl we love," 479. 

Good government, republican, 342. 

Goodwin, quoted, 353. 

Gorges, Ferdinando, Mason, N. H., 202, 203. 

Gospel, to the heathen, 8. 

Government, administration of, 4; object of, 
4; best form, 23,249; Ludlow's idea of, 
62; true end of, 149; a part of religion, 
239, 251; frame of, by Penn, 251, 253; 
divine right of, 251 ; by charter, 278; and 
law givers, 291 ; basis of. 293 ; limitation 
of all, 294; origin and objects, 300; what 
it is, 301; defined by Samuel Adams, 301; 
human and divine, 301 ; founded in opin- 
ion and confidence, 301 ; coeval with so- 
ciety, 303; of the saints, 306; defined by 
Mass., 303; good and bad, 309; illus- 
trated by Solomon, 310; what it really is, 
313; good— is fragrant, 313; aiimiuistra- 
tion of, 314; absolute, orden)ocnitic, 318; 
self, 340; realities of, 348; paralyzed by 
party, 366; narrowed, 612. 

"Governments perish when they change," 69. 

Grand Alliance, objects of, 457, 467. 

Granville, Earl, habits and character of, 577; 
and Pitt, 604. 

Gray. Edward, property of, 127. 

Great men, in different ages, 33; defects of, 
460; considerations respecting, 462. 

GreatJiess, human, and weakness, 4G0; and 
littleness, 532. 

Great Seal, thrown into the Thames, 423. 

Greeks, cohmies of, 92. 

Growth, remarkable example of, 316. 



INDEX. 



Guarantee, political, what it is. 540. 

Gwynne, Nell, anecdote of, 383. 

(iuiscard's attempt to assassiuateHarley, 502. 

Guizot, F., respectins: democracy, 21; quoted, 
32, 46, 51, 52, 61, 108, 128. 168, 292, 295, 
303, 314; respecting kinscs and Cromwell, 
327, 348, 353; revolution of 1688, 427; 
power and natural laws, 462 ; quoted, 540. 

Gun powder, discovery of, 97. 

Guttemburg, 138. 

H 

Habeas Corpus, anecdote disputed,, 71; test 
of principle, 571. 

Habits of society, 541. 

Hale, Sir Matthew, 261. 

Halifax, Lord, letter of, 420; a trimmer, 623. 

Hallam, Henry, respecting France, 49; Brit- 
ish Constilution, 319; commerce of Eng- 
land, 595. 

Hamilton, Alex., respecting woman, 483. 

Hampden, John, 77, 373; Exclusion Bill, 391. 

Hancock, John, 84. 

Handel, G. F., 13. 

Harley, Robert, "the trickster," 455, 497; 
life iittempted, 502. 

Hartford, Conn., "train bands " of, 285. 

Harvey, Wm., theory of the blood, 11. 

Harvey, Gov. of Va., 224. 

" Hate all, curse all," 16. 

Hate, logic of, 597. 

Hawley, Joseph, of Mass.,, 84. 

Hen, does not announce the morning, 487. 

Haydn, Joseph, 13. 

Henry, Josepli, report of, 6; aid to Morse, 90. 

Henry, Patrick, genius of democracy. 23. 

Heptai-chy, period of, 55 ; and monarchy, 320. 

Hercules, mythological character of, 463; 
myth of. what it teaches, 4<>3 ; made a 
martyr,^ 464i 

Herod, and Herodlus, 486. 

Heroes, band of, 614. 

Hersehel, on the physical sciences, 87. 

Hervey, Lord, Boswell to Geo. II. and queen, 
559. 

Hesiod, distribution of manlvind, 397. 

Hiii-her law, 529. 

Hildretli, Richard, quoted, 220. 273. 

Hill, Mrs. Abagail, Mrs. Masham, 455. 

Hindoos, Vedas of, 6. 

Hispaniola, supposed to be Ophir, 96. 

History, objects of, 29; uncertainties of, 32; 
brief chapters of, from Cromwell to 
George III., 115; political, objects of, 115; 
colonial, 155 ; as viewed by Greeks and 
Romans, 189 ; province of, 334 ; teachings 
of, 344; fables of, 534; must be written 
and verified instantly, 534; delinilion of, 

V. 

Historians, errors of, 133; duty of, 350. 

Hobbes, Thomas, views of, 366 ; politics of, 
366. 

Holland, represented in S. C, 183; govern- 
ment of, 190; views of sovereignty, 194. 

Holies, Lord, proof asrainst bribery, 386. 

" Holy Experiment," 248. 

Holy Sepulclire, rescue of, 83. 

Holy wars, explained, 565. 

Homer, battles of heroes and gods, 5 ; father 
of geography, 93. 

Honest men, discouragements of, 602. 

Hopkins, Samuel, 2. 

House of Commons 73 ; in 1775, 136. 



House of Lords, "Incurables," 74; Crom- 
well's plan of one, 350; abolition of, 619. 

Howard, Mrs., and the Tories, 537. 

Huddleston, Father, 384. 

Human agency, 87. 

Human body, its members, 341. 

Humanity, always the same, 7; boundary 
lines of, 98 ; gMts of, 127; nothing impus.- 
sible, that is necessary to it, 614. 

Human Progress, considered, 45. 

Humboldt, Baron, quoted, 288, 289, 302, 307. 

Hume, David, error of, 53; quoted, 109; 
Hobbes, 366 ; quoted, 372 ; not inclined to 
correct errors, 373 ; quoted, 399" 

"Hymn&, of lofty cheer," 202, 



Ideas, live forever, 116 ; moral power of, 239. 

Identity, moral, 130. 

Idleness, rebuked, 120. 

Ignorance, characteristics of, 10; fetters of, 

26"; no qualification for duty, 535. 
Ignoramus, acquittal of Shaftesbury, 393. 
Incapacity, no element for good, 535. 
Ifidependence, cause of, 84; declaration of, 

109 ; American^ opposed, 328. 
Independents, in Parliament, 61. 
Indemnity, Act of, 364. 
Indian, no tribe, no home, 119; power of, 

125; sympathy for, 143; treaty with, 143; 

fear of, 203; kind treatment of, 224; war 

against, 282. 
Individual and manifold diversity, 7. 
Indolent acquiescence, Hume, 16. 
Industry, and the tax gatherer, 99; results of, 

119; practical, 126; of the colonies, 299; 
Inequality, subject of, 464. 
Inner light, the rule of conauct, 239. 
Inquisition, doings of, 10, 98. 
Insensibility, effect of sense of duty, 431. 
Instinct, always the same, 312. 
Institutions, and character, 131. 
Insurrection, in N. C, 187. 
Integrity, principle of, 130 ; and sovereignty, 

130; grandeur of, 130; importance of , 534. 
Intellect, achievements of, 461. 
Interior Cabinet, origin of, 593, 599. 
Interest, reduction of, 552; importance of low 

rates, 552. 
Interview — extraordinary, 611; strange and 

fabulous, 6n. 
Introductory, 1, 78. 
Inventive genius, 138. 
Ipswich, democracy in, 1765, 290. 
Ireland, represented in S. C. 183 ; Leiand's 

history of, 226; oppressed by Cromwell, 

349 ; injustice to, 437. 
Irish House of Lords, 226. 
Isabella, queen of Edward II. 482. 
Israel, shepards of, 5. 
Israelites, followers of Moses, 80. 
Italian Republics, 78. 



Jacob, race of, 3. 

Jacobin, the, 18. 

Jails, of England visited, 207. 

James II. 77 ; downfall of, 108, 182 ; and Mass.- 
Charter, 277; record of, 372; at the death 
of Charles II. 384; seduced, 391; posi- 
tion of, 396; and Charles II., compared, 
396 ; reference to his brother, 396; respectt- 



670 



INDEX. 



ins: himself, 397; speech from the throne, 
o97; Hii;diii>t. arbitrary power, 397; capacity 
of, 398; dispositiou of, 398; as a man, 
3V)9 ; his choice of tools, 399 ; proclaimed 
williout a liot, 399; liad tbe benelit of 
jtarlics, 400 ; early asked Louis for money, 
400; motives of, 403; con:?istent tyrant, 
411 ; advisers of, 412; how flattered, 412; 
as KuiiT, 413; not prepared to obey the 
Pope, 413; cliaracteristics of, 415; incapac- 
ity of, 415; discourai^cd and desperate, 
422; dethroned, 423; ready to do any 
thinj^, 426 ; indictment of, 431. 

Jealousy, analysis of, 489. 

Jefferson, Tliomas, respectini; Federalists, 18; 
iiidependence. 84; life of, 179; and Wasli- 
intrton, 301 ; Kiniis, 302 ; srovernnient, 303; 
British Constitution, 319; parties, 319; 
opposed to monarchy, 329; definition of a 
republic, 340; spliere of woman 488. 

Jeffreys, Sir Geo., Cliief Justice of James II., 
899; infamous record of, 406; audacity 
and cruelty of, 406 ; insults to Avoman, 406 ; 
monster in human shape, 410 ; account of, 
410 ; defence of himself, 411; end of, 411 ; 
in House of Lords, 416. 

Jenner, Etlward, notice of, 11. 

Jesus, of Nazareth, 81 ; Kin<^ of Kings, 278 ; 
ruler of nations, 333. 

Jesuitism, popish puritanism, 109, 

Jews, emiiiTated to Geoi'tiia, 214. 

Joash, erected an altar to Baal, 531. 

Johnson, Samuel, Dr., quoted, 396. 

Jotliam, a wise man, 531 ; speech to the men 
of Shechem, 531. 

Joubert, quoted, 396. 
. Jiuliie^, discretion of, dangerous, 572. 
-J:ipiter, thunders of, 5, 

,0 ury, trial by, 141, 321. 

K 

Kant, Emanuel, philosophy of, 120. 

isLeiluiaiiseaiie, fat mistress of Geo. I., 509; 
made Countess of Leinster 509. 

Kendall, duchess of, employed, 527. 

Kennedy, J. C G., quoted, 220, 222, 230. 

Kent, James, Chancellor, quoted, 201. 

Kelland and Kii-k, royalists, 284. 

King, "Jesus," "must come soon," 61; Lords 
and Commons, 74, 75; Wm. III., 77; 
James and the Puritans, 156; and Parlia 
ment, contest, 165; James, speech of, 172; 
character of, 173; grant from, 220; and 
subject, 240; ofHce of, abolished, 331; of 
England, assailed, 336; glory of bein<>:, 
397; of France, ally to England, 403; 
servant of the people, 440. 

Kings, and Emperors, servants of democracy. 
25; divine rii::ht of, questioned, 97; ''exit 
tf/rannus, regumuUimns^'''' 101; Guizot, re- 
spectiiii;, 327; none in early ages, 333; 
how reirarded in the Colonies, 334; how 
influenced by party, 597. 

•'Kinirs' friends," 605. 

King.<ley, Prof., quoted, 279. 

Knowles, J. D., respectimr Cromwell, 850. 

Kuowledge, power of, 131; "Knowledge is 
power," maxim, 133; difTused, 135; what 
it is, 312. 

Knox, John, quoted, 5. 

Koran, the, 6. 



Labor, conditions of,, 168 ; subdivisions of, 207. 



Lacedsemon, republic of, 37. 

Lacouia, 202. 

Lamartine, quoted, 138, 292, 307, 486. 

Language, interpretation of, 32. 

Lan<lholders, of N. Y., 201, 620; untenanted, 
d20. 

La Place, the astronomer, 89. 

Laud, Archbishop, 220. 

Law, profession of, 12; in the heart, 23, 293. 

Laws, objects of, 4; results of imperfect, 126; 
revision of, 145, 147; good, and good men, 
252; agreed upon in Enuland, 2.57; of 
Penn. vs. laws of England, 271; of Eng- 
land, in R. I., 278; of capacity and princi- 
ple, 293 ; human, 311, 

"i(5etom?<r," medal inscription, 393. 

Le Brun, 13. 

Learning, in 1640. 131. 

Legislation, in England, democratic, 77; of 
tlie Puritans, 140; ideas respecting, 143; 
progress of, 321 ; business of, 518. 

Leisler. Jacob, above royalty, 202. 

''L'Stat, c'est moi,'' 296. 

Lewis, William, a zealous Catholic, 230. 

Levellers, and royalists, 65; claims of, 99; 
angry with Cromwell, 350. 

Liberty, civil and relitrious, 68, 69; a curious 
fact respecting, 76; preserved in England 
by the Puritans, 109; contest for the 
greatest, 117; and property, 273 ; sources 
of, 294; in England, 370. 

Lingard, John, quoted, 65. 

Lisle, Alice, case of cruelty, 408. 

Literature, Augustan age of, 448; allied with 
politics, 448. 

"Live and let live," principle of, 126. 

Livintrstone, Edward, Penal Cod^ of, 132. 

Load stones, early known, 288. 

Locke, John, influence of, 2, 77; his frame of 
government in S. C, 184; theory of, 333; 
letter of, 390; prescribed, 405 ; a demo- 
crat, 406 ; respecting the colonies, 438. 

Logic, nominal, 128. 

London, Bishop of, 228; freedom of, 390,895. 

London Gazette, 401. 

"Long Parliament" revived, 354. 

Lord, seeking the, 101; fear of, 137; will be 
king, 240. 

Lords, House of, "humbly desired, etc.," 74; 
vote of, 424, 444. 

Lord's Prayer, altered, 101. 

Lords, Say and Seal, 277. 

Louisiana, Penal Code of, 132. 

Louis XIV., government of, 316; person and 
character, 378; Macaulay respecting, 378; 
offers troops to James, 405 ; ambitious and 
unscrupulous, 458; female agents of, 484. 

Loyalty to party, not to government, 354. 

Luther, Martin* Schools in Germany, 135, 240. 

Lutheran Germans, 248. 

Luttrell, Temple, respecting royalty in Eng- 
land, 329. 

Lycurgus, as a lawgiver, 36, 81, 

M 

Macaulay, Thomas B., respecting Cromwell, 
60, 350; quoted, 243; chaiges against 
Peim, 263, 397; monarchy, 325; quoted, 
360, 361, 380, 384; the Cabal, 365; quoted, 
399. 401, 405, 409, 426, 427; questioned 
430; compliments democracy, 441. 

Mackintosh, Sir James, quoted, 3, 23, 55, 98, 
135, 162, 115, 357, 417. 



INDEX . 



671 



Madame de Maintcnon, 482. 

Madison, James, safety of parties, 15, 84. 

Magna Cliarta, G9, 71 ; second of England, 
208 ; Irish, 226 ; new, 439. 

Magnanimity, the virtue of power, 457. 

'' Magna est Veritas," etc., party maxim, 16. 

Mahometism, its Koran, 6. 

Masrnelic needle, early known, 288. 

Majority, principle of, 128. 

Maine, State of, 277. 

Man, aiient of power, and subject of want, 2 ; 
early trained as a partizan, 2; governed 
by motives, 3; capable of progress, 29; 
duties of, 29; equality of, 166; good, b;id, 
wise, foolish. 260; makes the world, 287; 
sph( re of, 472; mission of, 473; shielded 
by Providence, 613. 

"Man's extremities, God's opportunities," 
113. 

Manhattan Island, 188. 

Mariner's Compass, 97. 

Marlborough, the duke of, 424 ; record of, 
459; mission of, and the age in which he 
lived, 460; greatness of, 461; iovaltyof, 461, 
469; affection for his wife, 461, 471, 494; 
as a warrior, 464; the Hercules of his 
time, 465; educated a Tory, 405; and 
Jarties II., 466 ; highest ambition of, 466; 
" watcliword of fear," 467; as a partizan, 
468, 498, 501 ; loyalty of, 499; embarrass- 
ruents of, 470; lost confidence in royalty, 
and ill the Tories, 499; hard experience 
of, 501; and the ] eople, 503. 

Marlborougli, the Duchess of, respecting "Wil- 
liam, 440; and the church, 443; and Abi- 
gail Hill, 455; a Whijr, 471, 494; of great 
capacity, 471 ; intimate friend of Queen 
Anne, 471, 482, 491 ; legacy to Pitt, 491 ; 
love of property, 492; mission of, 493; 
not controlled "by tijeologians, 494; ]iar- 
ticipation in politics. 404; against titles, 
494; airainst office, 502. 

Markhi.m, William, 246. 

IVIarriage, providential one, 381. 

]Mars, voice of, 5. 

Marshall, John, maxims of democracy, 24. 

Maryland, colony of, 219; first settlement of, 
219; population of, 219; and Rev. of 
1688,219; authors respecting, 220, 224; rep- 
resentative government in, 220 ; 200 years 
ago, 221 ; religious freedom in, 221, 224 ; 
agriculture in, 224; declaration of rights, 
227; democracy in, 230; controlled by a 
papist, 275; and Peun., 276. 

Mary's Land, 219. 

Marvel, Andrew, cliaracter of, 373. 

IMasham, Mrs., and the queen, 455; cunning 
agency of, 503. 

Massachusetts, Charter of, 1628, 123, 143; 
criminals of, 136; and Maine, 202; 
Churches of and Georgia, 215; territory 
of, 277; and Cromwell,^ 331. 

Mass. Bay, Province of, 277. 

Massasoit, treaty with. 143. 

^f.Iason, Capt. John, 203. 

Mather, Cotton, quoted, 279. 

Maverick, Samuel, 121. 

]\Iay Flower, compact of, 113. 

May, Sir Th E., views of Pitt, 584, 592. 

^[cchanic, the, 138. 

ilechanics and stranrcrs, 141. 

IMedicine, Schools of, 12. 

jVremory, faculty defined, 88. 

Men, returning to sports of childhood, 3; 



leading 158 ; limited motives of. 297 ; men 
as men, and as pnrtizans, 435; always 
find their level, 535; the bad flattered, 
the good slandered, 535. 

"Men, not measures," 597. 

Mennonists, G. Baptists, 248. 

Merchant Adventurers, of London, 128; 
articles of agreement, 129; bravery of, 
202, 203. 

Merchant, interest of, 201. 

Merchant and naviL-ntor, 138. 

Mexico, ancient parties in, 5 ; republic of, 343. 

Miirnard, 13. 

Millenium, and republicanism, 342. 

Military power, 808; n<cessily, 307; hateful, 
352; condemned, 550; commissions, 5G9. 

Milton, John, quoted, 5; position of, 57, 77; 
quoted, 307, 473. 

Mind, faculties of, 87; supremacy of, 286; 
range of activity, 287. 

Miser, what he is, 127; biography of, 127; 
habits of, 136. 

Missionary Societies, 9. 

Mitchell, Sir Andrew, to Pitt, 614. 

Mobs, and plots, 99. 

Monarchy, no safety under, 119; not admired, 
281; 'in Mass., 282; ''of reason," c02; 
supposed oi-igin of, 324; mixed, 324; 
theory of Filmer. 325; Brougham resi)ect- 
ing, 325; John Dickinson, on, 325; elect- 
ive, 325; exploded, 329; extravagance, 
330; Colonists respecting, 331; not a 
party question, 332; did not emigrate, 
332; Bible au-ainst, 333, '4; not i^opular in 
America, 333; as viewed by parties, 335; 
a party vote, 339; self-reliant, 341; severely 
rebuked, 532. 

Monarchists, democratic, 327; Washington 
surprised, 329. 

Monarchical, and regal republics, 331. 

Money, what it is, 36; without character, 191. 

Monk, George, Gen., 354. 

Monkey, in ]K)wer, 460. 

Monmouth, Duke of, claim to the crown, 403, 
404. 

Monopolies, bitter fruits of 99; formed, 167; 
opposed by Penn, 247. 

Montaigne, Michael de, quoted, 127; respect- 
ing Venus, 460; woman, 485. 

Montesquieu, Charles, Baron de, respecting 
democracy in England, 26; government 
of England, 306; quoted, 358. 

Moral equity, 145. 

Morals, and Reformers, 291. 

Morlev, Mrs., assumed name of Queen Anne, 
oi-igin of, 500. 

Morris, Gov., Messasfe of, 266. 

Morse, Prof., and the telegraph, 90. 

Mosaic account it creation, 31. 

Moses, history of, 31. 

Motives, sphere of, enlarged, 95. 

"Mother country," always de;ir. 111. 

Mother's love, intensity of, 566. 

Mozart, 13. 

Murray, William, very able and honest, 577. 

Mutiny Act, 167. 



N 



Napoleon I., respecting democracy, 48; escape 
of, 484. 

Louis, and democracy, 292; and the Pres- 
idency 296; not a democrat, 296. 

Napoleon element, in France, 5L 



672 



INDEX. 



National existence, conditions of, 119; great- 
m-ss. elements of, 119; sources of, 120; 
p .lilii a! unity, 296. 

Nation, a new, of tlie past, 291; what consti- 
tutes a, 292; growtli and boundaries of, 
293; not an ajryfrcirate of tnen, 29(5. 

Nations, oritjiu and growtli of, 52; all repre- 
sented in America, 125; grovvUi of, 287, 
292; besjinniny; of, 290; should be studied 
toii:etlier, 345; experience of, 347. 

Native land, love of. 111. 

Natural World, causes of, 144; laws and 
power, 462. 

Nature, considered rationally, 289; voice of, 
294; democracy of, 294; and govern- 
ment, 309. 

Neal's (Daniel) history, quoted, 110. 

Neander's (J. W. A.) Church history, 6. 

Necessity, inventive aid of, 127. 

Niebuhr, B. G., quoted, 341. 

Neptune, tempests of, 5. 

Nero, learning of, 461. 

Neutrality, dangers of. 4. 

Newcastle, Marquis of, self deceived, 579; 
character of, 579, 580; anecdote of, 605. 

New Amsterdam, 189. 

New England, climate of, 122; plantations of, 
165; traders from, 248; united colonies 
of, 277; democracy in, 278; name cf, 278. 

New Jersey, territory of, 201 ; and Win. Penn, 
235; Bancroft respecting, 236; and Queen 
Anne, 237. 

New Hampshire, 161; first settlement, 202; 
discovered by John Smith, 202; united to 
Miss., 204; population of, 204; separated 
from Mass., 205; patriotic people of, 205; 
territory mortgaged, 205; democracy of, 
205; circumstances favorable to, 206, 277. 

New Netherlands, 189, 190. 

New Plymouth, Laws of, 141; address to the 
people, 145. 

Newspapers, influence of, .595. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 77, 89, 461; 
Thomas, 192. 

New York, first settlement, 188; party con- 
tests, 201 ; free leaislatureof. 201; -'Char- 
ter of Liberties," 201; early hisloiy of. 633. 

Nicholls, John, quoted, 300; respeciing Geo. 
III., 593 

Nobility of England, and America, 166. 

Noddle's Island, 121. 

N on resistance, 365. 

'■'■Non sibi, sed aliisy 217. 

North Carolina, 187; insurrection in, 187; set- 
tled by Mass. people, 187; Tories of, 188. 

North, Lord, called to order, 21. 

Northnien,. before Columbus, 291. 

North River, discovered, 188. 

"No petticoat government," 589. 

Nottingliam, Eail of, of the Church party, 
454. 

Nottingham paper, recitals of, 426. 



Obedience, dutv of, with liberty, 190. 

Oblivion, Act of, 362, 364. 

O'Callaghan, quoted, 190,193; Bancroft ques- 
tioned. 193. 

Ocoan, in its depths, 289. 

O'Connell, Daniel, quoted, 349. 

Office, qualitications for, 535; not to be 
declined, 142. 

Oglethorpe, James, and Georgia, 206; family 



of, 207; poets pung his praises, 208 ; and 
John Adams, 208; and Fenu., 231. 

Oliio, Penitentiary of, 136. 

Oil, and Drugs, in Georgia, 212. 

Oliver's days, 2. 

Olive, Thomas, Gov. of N. J., 238. 

'' Omnipotence and imbecility jiiiimd," 402. 

Onslow, Arthur, Speaiier, long influence of, 
546. 

Orange, Prince of, and Mary, 381. 

Orleans, duchess of, 484. 

Ostracism, origin of, 462. 

Oxenstiern, Count, quoted, 307. 

Oxford University, and torvism, 390; declara- 
tions of, 401 ; Decree of, 025. 



Paine, Thomas, " Common Sen.se'*, 333. 

Paley, moral science, 292; quoted, 311. 

Paradise Lost, object of, 35. 

Park's (Roswell) Pantology, quoted from, 6, 
324. 

Papacy and Democracy, in America, 231. 

Papists, in N. Y., 201; and ProU-stants, 227; 
and Presbyterians, 242; of Ireland, 367; 

Parker, Joel, respecting the Puritans, 109; the 
Quakers, 242. 

Parliament, acts first promulsratcd, 62; free- 
dom of, T2\ not feared, 157; committee 
of, 209; and Georgia, 206; organization of, 
322; an untiiinking council, 366; changes 
of, 371; insulted by the kin<r, 394; 
rebuked by the king, 416; debates of, 
respecting the king, 423. 

Parliaments, names of, 76; frequent, 367, '8. 

Parties, political, Addison quoted, 2; forma- 
tion of, 4; administration of, 4; in all ages, 
5 ; in the ]>rison, 6; errors of, 159 ; results 
of, 159; Whig and Tory, 300; their stand- 
ard of principle, 345; die when false, 361; 
powerless when ignorant, 361; divided, 
363, 414, 529; defined by Bolin^broke, 385 ; 
united against France, 456; "all alike," 
468; conventional rights of, 515; habits 
of, 541, '42 ; desperate state of, 547 ; con- 
ditions of, 576; the two great ones of the 
world, 613; their aims and ends, 613. 

Party, principles of, 1 ; what it is, 1 ; its im- 
portance to science, and religion, 1 ; man- 
ifold moral power of, 2 ; based on spirit 
of babes, 3; "theafterwise," 5; its action 
and importance, 13; forces of, 14, 15; 
periods of, 1.53; progressive or permanent, 
153; lines of, 336, '7; questions to, an- 
swered, 346; of Cromwell, in factions, 
354; extremes of, 401; of the court, 416; 
of the people, trusted, 419; appointments 
of, 445; embarrassments of, 470; middle 
one, 487; violence of, 498; bitter fruits 
of, 528; appeals to young men, 544; men 
of, classified, 598. 

Pascal, Blaize, heresy of, 11. 

Passions, energies of the soul, 14. 

Patents, for everything, 99. 

Patriotism, conditions of, 12 ; and crime, 347. 

Patriots, of America, 84. 

Patroons, enterprise of, 195. 

Paupers of England— sent to Georgia, p. 213. 

'' Patriotic leaders," 373. 

Peace, is national health, 294; a necessity to 
Franco, 458; treaties of, 568. 

Peerage Bill, a mistake, 516, 522. 

Peers, new ones created, 444. 



INDEX. 



673 



Pelham administration, 554. 

Pelbam, Henry— Walpole's advice to, 577; 
made chancellor of the exchequer, 578; 
character of, 578 ; his conditions of con- 
trol, 579; party of, powerful, 594. 

Penal Code of Louisiana, 132. 

Penderfi;ast, J. P., quoted, 349. 

Penn, William, quoted, 137; his Province, 
149; family of, 231; against surplice, 
232 ; displeases his father, 232 ; became a 
preacher, 233; denounced for heresy, 
233; studies theology, 233; arrested in 
Ireland, 233; firmness and consistency, 
233 ; studied colonization, 233; a student 
at Lincoln's Inn, 233; Clarkson's life of, 
234; marriage of, 234; sent to Newgate, 
233 ; no friend to expediency, 235 ; mo- 
tives of, 236, 237; his relations to the 
Crown, 238; powerful friends of, 238; 
proclamation of, 244; conditions and con- 
cessions, 245; sailed for America, 247; a 
democratic monarchist, 249 ; errors of, 
250; character of, 259; peculiarities of, 
261 ; loyalty of, 262; personal friends, 262 ; 
defended against Macaulay, 263; letter to 
Popple, 264. 

Pennsylvania, settlement of, 231; name of, 
238; history of by Franklin, 267; controver- 
sies respecting, 268; grievances of, 27; 
democracy of, 276. 

Pensions, annuities and allowances, of Eng- 
land, 622. 

People, divide on public questions, 4 ; riches 
of the country, 283 ; nothing to do but to 
obey laws, 335 ; inconsistencies of, 358 ; 
terrors of the, 375; ignorant of their 
rights, 417 ; declared will of, 433 ; will of, 
470; protected by democracy, 530; loy- 
alty of, 546; cannot be forced into 
morality, 550 ; alarmed by the acts of roy- 
alty, 606. 

Pepin, of France, 82. 

Percival, Lord, 206. 

Percy, Lord, — and Hobbes, 369. 

Perfection — not expected, 116. 

Pericles, and Aspasia, 482. 

Periods of the 17th century, 77. 

Perpetuating influences, 542. 

Persia, Zenda, vesta of, 8 ; sacred basis of gov- 
ernment, 81. 

Pertinax, murdered, 43. 

Pestal, Paul, revolutionist in Russia, 118.^ 

Peter, the hermit, 83; the great, 262. 

Peters, Hugh, quoted, 330. 

Petitioners and Abhorrers, 372. 

"Petticoat government," 601. 

Petre, Father, 416. 

Pharaoh, prophesies against, 5. 

Phoenicians, and their colonies, 92. 

Physical science, study of, 87. 

Pierce, Franklin, quoted, 140. 

Pilgrims, in the "Mmv Flower," 86; at Ply- 
mouth, 84, 109, 277. 

"Pilgrim's Progress," author of, 366. 

Pioneer, honor to the, 90. 

Piscataqua, settlements of, 204. 

Pitt, Wm. Jr., as minister, "he has no char- 
acter," 21, 337. 

Pizarro, spirit of, 83. 

Place Bill, bid of the Tories, 570. 

Plague, of 1665, 390. 

Plato, did not speculate on the gods, 6; 
respecting divine things, 81. 

Plantation Governors, 271. 



Pliny, his love of fame, 461. 

Plots, of Wat Tyler and others, 57. 

Plutarch, quoted, 482, 630. 

Pluto, affrighted, 5. 

Poets, quoted, respecting woman, 475. 

Pollexfen, patron of faction, 407. 

Politics, a new science of, 29. 

Political history, what, 87 ; how useful, 572 ; 
objects of, ll5. 

Political parties, of the Colonies, 154, 155. 

Political rivals, seldom agree, 527. 

Political darkness, a call for caudles, 612. 

Polybius, on monarchy, 324 ; error of, 339. 

Pompadour,, Madame de, 482, 

Pope, the, in Great Britain, 55; a charter 
from Heaven, 82. 

Pope's nuncio, 413. 

Pope, Alex., lines quoted, 376, 613. 

Popery and Puritanism, 220, 228 ; great fear 
of, 375; and Protestantism, 433. 

Popish plot, 374, 402. 

Poppaea, of great beauty, 43, 

Popple, William, 264. 

Portugese, in Brazil and India, 95. 

Portsmouth, settlement of, 278. 

Portsmouth, duchess of, 484. 

Poverty, advantages of, 126: aided by neces- 
sity, 127. 

Power, subdivisions of, 340, 341 ; not far from 
necessity, 399; without moral principle. 
457. 

Poyning, Sir Edward, his law, 226. 

Practice, against theory, 556, 557. 

Presbyterians, in Parliament, 61; and Inde- 
pendents, 362; of Scotland, 367; snivel- 
ing, 407; Jeffreys can smell them, 409; 
lying knaves, 408. 

Prescott, Wm. H., quoted, 134. 

Prince of Peace, 5. 

Principle, history of, 569. 

Principles, fundamental, 16; levers of prog- 
ress, 298. 

Prisoners, to be transported, 209. 

Private motives made paramount to public 
good, 530. 

Privy Council, decrees of, 174. 

Profit, everything for, 190, 

Progress, spiritual, Froude quoted, 79 ; com- 
position of, 207; human, 239; political 
and national, 287 ; not seen at short in- 
tervals, 344. 

Progressive measures, 116. 

Proprietary governments, 152. 

Property, definition of, 3 ; representatives of, 
169; element of, 200; sovereignty of, 
204 ; impersonal, 477. 

Protector, title of Cromwell, 349; "what's 
that?," 349; popular title, 349. 

Protestants, favored in S. C, 183; taught 
toleration by a papist, 276. 

Protestantism, defence of, 229; ally to de- 
mocracy, 420. 

Protestant ministers, ministers of the devil, 
230. 

Proud, quoted, 235. 

Providence, beneficent plans of, 297 ; beauties 
of, 347; rule of , 370, 376. 

Providence (R. I.), first government in, 278. 

Providence Plantation, 277. 

Provincial governments, 151. 

Provisional government, N. E., 277. 

Prudence, courage of, 121. 

Public opinion, delusions of, 358. 

Pulteney, Wm., against Walpole, 574, 577; 



6U 



INDEX. 



political fate of, 576; "weather-cock," 
577. 

Puritan, "ever a rebel," 60; and Cavalier, in 
S. C, 1S3; and the Dutch, 193; and Pa- 
pist, 24o; nonconformists, 243; rule of, 
preferred to royalty, 366. 

Puritans, respectiiij^, 60; hardships of, 84; 
in Eiis:land, 102; orij^in of the name, 103; 
til ree classes of, 102; in the May Flower, 
lOS; in America, 109; justice to by Hume 
itnd DeLolme, 109; moral strength of, 
109; human, 110; embarrassed by no 
theories. 111; political relations of, 112; 
they stood alone, 112; rights of in the 
wilderness, 112; experience of, 122; pov- 
erty of, 127; integrity of, 130; honor to, 
139; legislation of, i40; invited to Md., 
225; outposts of, 280; resigned to the 
will of God, 331 ; cant of, 361. 

Puritanism defended, 103. 

Pythagoras, saying of, 399. 

a 

Quakers, brotherly love of, 61 ; views of, 
239 ; does not remove his hat, 241 ; con- 
duct of, 241 ; suffered imprisonment, 241 ; 
Avhipped, 242; Parker respecting, 242; 
sufferings of, 243; would not be sworn, 
243; favored by democratic rule, 248; 
in England declared for democracy, 249; 
commended to the King, 397; petition of, 
558; opposed by the bishops, 558. 

Quakerism, a peaceful element, 239 ; and de- 
mocnicy, 231. 

Queen, Elizabeth, and the Church, 103; of 
Geo. II., influence of, 658; Henrietta 
Maria, 219. 

Queronaille, the beautiful, 484. 

Questions to be answered, 346; of mere par- 
ty, 515. 

Quo warranto, writ of, 295. 



Rnleigh, Sir Walter, quoted, 302 

Ralph, quoted, 390. 

Rapiu, quoted, 374, 390. 

Rebellion, 118, 281 ; of 1715, 409, 513, 584. 

Reeves, John, tory policy of, 339. 

Religion, promoted by parties, 6; polytheis- 
tic systems of, 6; in all States, 8; zeal in 
the cause of, 9, 10; has no occasional 
place, 46; always to be sacred, 80; foun- 
dation of the State, 80; periods of, 153; 
and politics, views of, 365; union of, with 
State, favored by Walpole, 551. 

RHigious discussion, discournged, 230. 

Religious freedom, in N. H., 204. 

ReliLTious liberty, 160; feuds not to be noticed, 
364. 

Renegade, a convenient tool, 369. 

Representation, in England, 619. 

Republicof America, origin of, 344. 

Republics of Greece and Rome, 34; ancient, 
causes of failure, 341. 

Republicans, from Holland, 200 ; in Conn. , 279. 

Republicanism, in England. 75; of the Puri- 
tans, 248; detined, 339; etvmology of, 
339; indefinite meaning of, 339; its high- 
est signification, 300; basis of, 301; is 
self government, 341 ; in different nations, 
342; the best form of government, 302; 
not a party question, 343; of 1776, 304. 



Restoration, (Charles II.) means of, 355; 
source of joy, 359 ; events of, 362. 

Revolution, of France, ideal of, 5; of 1688, in 
England, 108, 181, 248, 322; of 1688, 424; 
originators of, 426; Guizot, respecting, 
426; justitied by parliament, 432; defen- 
sive, 433; benefits of, 434; triumph of 
democracy, 439; of 1848, in France, 292; 
necessity of, 377. 

Revolutions, of Europe, 164; a chapter on, to 
be in second volume, 61.5. 

Rhode Island, 159; territory of, 277; laws of 
England in, 278; second charter of, 279. 

Richelieu, Cardinal, quoted, 325. 

Right and wrong, 371. 

Riotti, Pauline, 484. 

Robespierre, of no party, of all parties, 5. 

Rochester, bishop of, a tory, 335; Earl of, 
and the Protestant cause, 416. 

Rockingham, Marquis of, 594. 

Rome, people of, 38 ; Bolingbroke, respecting, 
41; the past of, 42; governed by the 
worst men, 43; the worst men of, 43; 
ignorance of, 43; conflicts of party, 44; 
causes of its fall, 44, 45 ; provincial sys- 
tem of, 95 ; education in, 134. 

Roman Empire, religion of, 7 ; extent of, 39 ; 
parties in, 38, 39; civilization in, 39; 
grandeur of, 40. 

Romans, Livy respecting, 39. 

Roman Senate, religious awe, 81. 

Romulus, and Remus, 42. 

Ronquillo, Spanish Ambassador, 399. 

Rossini, 13. 

Roubilliac, 113. 

Rousseau, Contrat Social, 128; quoted, 309. 

Royalty, and the parliament, 70; exercised a 
doubtful xjower, 112; nature of, 168 ; com- 
binations with, 169; and sovereignty in 
N. H., 205; nominal grandeur of, 329; 
English records, 329; abolished, 331; 
failures of, 356 ; a crime, 357 ; conflicts of, 
370; still found wanting, 396; nothing 
without democracy, 441 ; representative 
of, 504; has no enduring element of safety, 
530; nominalpower of, 531; incompetency 
of, 540; divided against itself, 566, 567; 
promotions of, 567; again found wanting, 
586; propitious period for, 586; under 
difficulties, 609; its idea of honor, 609; 
its thoughtlessness, 612. 

Royal governors, contests with, 201. 

Royal infant, and paternal love, 521. 

Royal pleasures, 359. 

Royalists, spirit of, 363. 

Rubens, 13. 

Rudyard, Sir Benjamin, saying of, 54. 

Russell, VVm. 77, 377. 

Russia, people of, not free, 41 ; democracy in, 
78; insurrection in, 118; influence of the 
Bible in, 118; seditious songs in, 118; 
army of, 120. 

Rye-house plot, " hellish design," 243, 374, 403. 

Ryleieff, Canrad, the poet, executed for ti'ea- 
son, 118. 

S 

Sacheverell, Dr., sermons of, 448. 
Saint Lawrence, river, 203. 
Saint Paul, character of, 263. 
Salic law, origin of, 481. 
Salisbury, Earl of, 222. 
Satan, malice of, 5. 



INDEX. 



675 



Saxons and Normans, 370. 

Sayle, William, 183. 

Sciiism Bill, importance of, 444; in England 
and Scotland, 444, 445. 

Schlegel, respecting the sexes, 473. 

Schools, free in America, 132. 

Science, advanced by parties, 10 ; certainties 
of, 29, 30 ; leaders in, 79 ; periods of, 154 ; 
independent of opinions, 261; votaries of, 
291. 

Scipio, the great, 43. 

Scotland, represented in S. C, 183 ; and N. H. 

Secret service money, 545. 

Sect, ia England, Germany and Switzerland, 
professing the spirit of infancy, 3. 

Sectarian zeal, 231. 

Self linowledge, 133. 

Self reliance, centered in God, 121. 

Seneca, 10 ; and morals, 292. 

Septennial Bill, how regarded, 514, 516, 518; 
question of repeal, 570; urged by the 
Tories and opposed by the Whigs, 570. 

Sergeant, respecting Cromwell, 66. 

Sermons, seven hours long, 101. 

Sexes, comparison of the, 472. 

Seymour, Horatio, 633. 

Shaftesbury, earl of, 73 ; quoted, 368 ; tools of, 
373; injustice to, 374; and Grand Jury, 
390. 

Shakespeare, respecting woman, 488. 

Sheridan, quoted, "follow Fox," 4, 77; 
respecting sedition, 338. 

Shippen, Wm. character of, 518, 519; Pope, 
respecting, 519. 

Sicily, government of, 25. 

Sidney, Algernon, 77; a democratic republi- 
can, 357; opposed to Cromwell, 357; 
quoted, 385; defended, 387. 

Silk, product of Georgia, 212. 

Sismondi, quoted, 92. 

Sloth, and the Hytena, 558. 

Smvth, Wm., quoted, 5, 64, 103, 322, 358, 360, 
'377, 420, 421, 4-24, 439. 

Smith, John, Social peace, first condition of, 
296; N. H., 202. 

Society, diversity and unity of, 32; real and 
apparent aspects of, 53 ; mobile elements 
of, 314, '15; state of, time of Chas. II., 
372. 

Socrates, the wisest man, 10. 

Solon, laws of, 16 ; and government, 292. 

Solomon, truth of, 137; quoted, 292. 

Somers, Lord, great ability of, 393, 425 ; quo- 
ted, 446. 

Somerset, duke of, in council, 5T)9. . 

Soul, wealth of the, 127 ; from time to eter- 
nity, 288. 

South Carolina, 182; first settlement of, 182; 
motives of settlers, 182 ; from every nation, 
183 ; spirited sons of, 188. 

South Sea Bubble, 524; Appendix, 641. 

Sovereignty, national, analyzed, 122; founda- 
tion in principle, 122; as understood by 
the colonists, 123; of democracy, 123, 
141; of absolutism, 123; state and town^ 
124; American Union, 125; importance of 
State, 126; prerogatives of, 126; of de- 
mocracy in N. H., 205; asserted by roy- 
alty, 205; by the colonies, 278; belongs 
to the people, 196. 

Spain, loss of greatness, 119; independent, 
but not free, 293; colonies of, 294; dis- 
tinguished women in, 477. 

Spanish Colonists, in Mexico, Peru, 95. 



Sparks, Jared, quoted, 272. 

Sparta, children of, 37. 

Speculation, age of, 524 ; proclamation against, 
o25. 

Spiritual culture, 8. 

Springett, G. Maria, wife of Wm. Penn, 234. 

Spurzheim, philosophy of, 88. 

Standish, Miles, property of, 127. 

State rights, basis of, 341. 

States General and Sweden, 378. 

Statesmanship, strategy of, 532. 

Steele, Sir Richard, election, expulsion, and 
trial, 449; defended by Walpole and 
Addison, 449 ; writings of, 450 ; accused 
of sedition, 450 ; Pope respecting, 451 ; 
debate, 453 ; his apology, 453 ; inconsis- 
tency of, 519 ; democracy of, 523. 

Sternhold, 2. 

Stevens, W. B. Bishop, quoted, 207, 217; 
great ability of, 208. 

Stilliugfleet and Wm. Penn, 233. 

Stone, Wm., Gov. of Md., 227. 

Story, Joseph, advice to young men, 22,; 
quoted, 152, 231. 

Streeter, S. F., quoted, 221. 

Strength, laws of, 26. 

Strife, seeds of, 248. 

Stuarts, not in favor, 281. 

Stuart papers, importance of, 377. 

Stuyvesaut, Peter, 191. 

Subjects of indifl"erence, Paley, 16. 

Submission, when a crime, 282. 

Success, true sources of, 219; cannot follow 
violation of God's law, 584. 

Suflfrage, female, 476 ; in England, 477. 

Sulpicianus, a bidder for the Empire, 43. 

Superstition, what it is, 83. 

Suspicion in diplomacy, beneath the dignity 
of a nation., 458. 

Swedes, in Pennsylvania, 231. 

Swift, Dean, facts of nature. 488. 

Switzerland, represented in S. C, 183. 



Talleyrand, female agents of, 484. 

Talmud, saying of, 461. 

Tarquinius, Lucius, 39. 

"Tatler," for the ladies, 449. 

Taxation and representation, 476. 

Temple, Sir Wm., suggestion of, 378. 

Tennyson, lines on woman, 490. 

Terra Mari;B, Maryland, 219. 

Territory, foundation of interest, 125. 

Test Act, 390; of 1642, 444; repeal of, 554. 

Thales, and science, 292. 

Thackeray, respecting Geo. IL and Walpole, 
539 ; Frederic, the Prince of Wales, 564. 

Thargelia and Thessaly, 482. 

Themistocles, and his child, 483. 

Theocratic rule, 140. 

Theology, dogmas of, 448. 

Theories, uncertainties of, 207. 

"The patriots are come,'' a ballad, 577. 

"The statesman," lines quoted, 575. 

The States General, 189. 

Things, knowledge of, 290. 

Thomson, the poet, 77; lines of, 209. 

Thurlow, Lord, anecdote of, 596. 

"Thy commonwealth come," for "Thy king- 
dom come," 101. 

Titans, sacred teachei'S, 81. 

Tobacco, order respecting, 164; use of, 175. 

Toleration, a virtue or crime, 98 ; honor of, 



676 



INDEX. 



15S ; Act of, 1GS9, 429 ; not dangerous to 
tlie nation, 557. 

Tory, a name familiar to all, 2 ; democratic 
language of a, 529; "beware of," 578; 
lanliuage of, 316; to Pitt, 604. 

Toryism, characterized, 18; mission of, 20; 
" vigor beyond law," 838; enunciation of, 
395; its achievements, 585; favorable 
period for, 586; can never mix with de- 
mocracy, 608; enunciation of, 625. 

Tories and monarchy 331; alarmists, 335; re- 
liuionists, 365; professed friends of 
James II., 401; their compassion excited, 
409; evasions of, 423; errors and crimes 
of, 425; and the prince of Orange, 435; 
favored return of James, 436; treachery 
of, 436; preferred by the queen for office, 
444; extreme measures of, 445; distin- 
guished, 448; eight to one Whig, 504; 
their bid for influence, 510; their schemes 
disguised, 527; ministry of , 459 ; did not 
surrender when they lost power, 529 ; 
favored reduction of the army, 548; ab- 
surd disguises of, 558; outrage of parental 
affection, 566; resort to democratic means 
for restoration, 569; rejoice in a change, 
592. 

Tory Party, origin of the name, defined, 17 ; 
creed of, by Addison, 19; Appendix, 617; 
effi'ontery of, 389 ; how headed, 416; Peers 
created by, 444; false to the grand al- 
liance, 502; reorganized, 526; death of, 
526, 591 ; f allacv of, 598 ; proscriptions of, 
598; revived, 612. 

Town, and State sovereignty, 124. 

Town officers, in N. H., 204. 

Towns and Counties, origin of, 321. 

Trajan, ignorance of, 46l. 

Treason, to appeal to the King, 283; and 
sedition Bills, England, 886. 

Treaties, to be made by the people, 282 ; of 
peace, 568. 

Trees, fable of, 581. 

Triennial Bill, reluctantly approved by Wil- 
liam III., 516. 

Trimmers, political, 16,497; Appendix, 623. 

Triple alliance, 378. 

Trumbull, J., quoted, 279. 

Trustees of Georgia, errors of, 217. 

Truth, invincible, 12; and justice, sources of 
strength, 120; certainty of, 135; inde- 
pendent of man, 240; independent of 
intentions, 260; and duty, obstacles to, 
602. 

Truths, great, opposed, 2. 

Tucker, Georire, quoted, 179. 

Tullia, daughter of kiny; of Rome, 42. 

Turk, how limited in government, 294. 

Turkey, Saltan of and Mahomet, 82. 

Turner, Francis, bishop of Ely, 412. 

Tyrannv, fruits of, 23 ; early and bold rebuke 
of, 49 ; mission of, 136. 

Tytler, A. F., resj)ecting woman, 483. 



Unrlerhill, Capt. John, 191. 
Union, the American, 140. 
United States, what is due to the ranks of , 295. 
Unity of power, 314. 
Universal reason, 289. 
Union of the best and worst men, 425. 
Union of England andScotland, dissolution of, 
discussed, 447. 



Union, political, little understood, 447 
Utrecht, treaty of, 164. 



Valeria, sister of Publicola, 632. 

Vane, Sir Henry, against Richard Cromwell, 
355 ; birth and end of, 855. 

Vanity, has a place in the mind, 461. 

" Vanity of Vanities," 565. 

Vattel, quoted. 319. 

Vedas, of the Hindoos, 6. 

Vergilia, wife of Coriolanus, 631. 

Victoria, queen, 619. 

Victory, democratic, 393. 

Vipers, age of, 97. 

Virgil, invocation of, 89; birth of, 89; respect- 
ing woman, 488. 

Virginia Company, limits of, 113. 

Virginia, first colony, 151 ; mother of States, 
159; representative assembly of, 166; col- 
ony of, 171 ; charter of, 172 ; population 
of, 172. 177; political character of, 175; 
government of, 175; hospitality of, 176; 
enterprise of, 177; history of, "177, 180; 
parties in, 181 ; and Maryland, 220. 

Virtue, that moves heaven, 311,"; " perfec- 
tionates herself," 27. 

Virtues, the cardinal, 573; of China, 4000 
years ago, 573. 

Volscians, and Coriolanus, 631. 

Voltaire, respecting Cromwell, 349. 

Volumina, mother of Coriolanus, 632. 

"Voxpopuli est vox Dei," sacred feature of 
the history, 22, 78; ancient maxim, 78, 
310,S35t. ' * 

" Vox populi est vox Diaboli," 79. 

W 

Wadsworth, Capt., of Hartford, Conn., 285. 

Wallop, interposition of, 407. 

Walpole, Sir Robert, error respecting the 
Army, 549; and the dissenteis, 554; 
against persecution, 556; inconsistencies 
of, 556, '7; tired of excise experiments, 
569; his defence against Wyndham, 571; 
not always true to principle, 578 ; resig- 
nation of, 574; created Earl of Orford, 
574 ; great speech of, 575 ; and queen of 
Geo. II., 658; death of, 579. 

Want, the basis of business, 8. 

War, how It is defensible, 295; Chapter on, in 
second volume, 615. 

Wars, religious, explained, 565. 

Washington, influence of, 2; party spirit of, 
15; birth of, 84; Monument to, 84; the 
Pope of Rome, 84; and the government, 
292; quoted, 295; respecting monarchy, 
329. 

Watertown, date of settlement, 277. 

Weakness, no aid to weakness, 579. 

Wealth, power of, 169. 

Wentworth, Peter, M. P., 1575.103; a bold 
democrat, 108; a puritan, 103 ; his speech 
to a Com. of Parliament, 108; his loyalty 
to the queen, 104; faithful to official 
duty, 137. 

Whalley and Goflfe, search for, 284. 

Whateley, bishop, quoted, 312. 

Wheelwright and Cromwell, 204. 

Whichcote, Dr., quoted, 302. 

Whig, a name familiar to all, 2; and Tory, 
distinction between, 15, 319 ; origin of the 



INDEX. 



6TT 



name, 17; and Tory writers, cited, 372; 
how regarded, 500. 

Whigs, misfortune of, 373 ; controlled in the 
Commons, 415; good conduct of, 424; 
alarmed, 442; distinguished, 448; hated 
in power, 454; anti-democratic, 459; and 
Tories, changed sides, 516 ; true ones al- 
ways loyal, 520 ; distinction between, 527 ; 
not true to democracy, 529 ; true ones, 
551; more prudent than lofty, 557; re- 
moved from office, 605. 

Whig Party, mistakes of, 516; forty-five 
years in power, 594. 

Whig and Tory Parties, difiFerence, 597. 

Whigs and Tories, arrayed, 613.^ 

"Whig it with all opponents," 578. 

Whitehall, lewd scenes at, 366. 

Will, of central power, 316. 

William III., Prince of Orange, marriage of, 
420 ; a democrat, 420 ; declaration of, 421; 
letter to British Army, 422; landed at 
Torbay, 422 ; sagacity of, 426; a Calvinist, 
427; remarkable success of, 427; Prof. 
Smyth respecting, 428; Buckle, 429; 
arrival at St. James, 429 ; and Mary, pro- 
claimed, 433; reign of, 434; character, 
436; difficulties of, 436; as a partisan, 
436; misled by Tories, 437; as a states- 
man, 437 ; a stranger in England, 437 ; and 
Am. Colonies, 437; confides only in 
democracy, 437 ; reign of expensive exten- 
sion, 438; not responsible for his age, 
439 ; accused of brutality, 440 ; King only 
of the Whigs, 453. 

Williams, Roger, 160, 277; banished Mass., 
277 ; plan of, 278. 

Wilkes, John, birth, character and influence, 
595; anecdotes of, 596. 

Wine, in Georgia, 212. 

Winchelsea, Earl of, 207. • 

Winslow, Gov., 145. 

Winthrop, Gov., 165. 



Wisdom, human and divine, 311; defined, 312. 

Wood, Anthouy, quoted, 222. 

Woodbury, Levi, quoted, 303. 

Wolfertsen, Jacob, 192. 

Woman, moral nature of, 240; feeble as an 
official, 455 ; mission of, 472, '4 ; sphere of, 
472; characteristics of , 474 ; pictured by 
the poets, 474; history of, 480; vocations 
of, 481 ; as connected with government 
481, 487; infiuence on public men, 481; 
cause of revolutions, 483; as woman, 483 
'4; Gov. Livingston, respecting, 486; and 
democracy, 490; how degraded, 493 
importance of, 658. 

Women, crowds of at parliament house, 99 
distinguished, 477, '8 ; during the French 
Revolution, 484; Am. Revolution, 486 
employed by Tories, 487 ; as women, 633. 

" Worst things '"' prevailed, 43. 

Workmen against their employers, 295. 

Works, of Milton, Buchanan, and Baxter, 
ordered to be burnt, 57. 

World, external, phenomena of, 288. 

Wyllis, Samuel, Hartford, Conn., 286. 

Wyndham, Sir Wm., against Steele, 450 



Teardley, Sir Geo., 173. 

Yeomans, Sir John, 183. 

York, duke of, 381. 

Yorke, Sir Jos., to Mitchell, 614. 

Young men, party appeals to, 544. 

Young's Cliron. of the Pilgrims, 113» 

Youth, impulsive, 544. 

Yu, doctrine of Confucius, 8. 

Yu, Emp. of China, 3204 B. C, 32. 

Z 

Zachary, the Pope, 82. 
Zoroaster, spirit of, 103. 
Zuylesteyne^ in England, 420. 



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